Ripples
by jane0904
Summary: Following in the Mal/Freya 'verse from KITH & KIN, Serenity's crew spend some down time on Lazarus with Inara and Sam, but it's not just Mal who needs to heal.  Read, enjoy, review! Now complete, but more to come!
1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure he's going to be all right?" Inara sat at the dressing table and tried to pin up her long, lustrous curls, but for some reason this morning her fingers wouldn't obey her.

Sam Nazir, sitting on the bed and lacing up his black leather shoes, glanced across at her. "You know he is. You spoke to Kaylee."

"I know." She let go of the silver comb she was attempting to wind into her hair, but a long strand escaped and slithered down her neck. In frustration she pulled it all loose and tossed the comb at the mirror. It clattered and fell to the table top amidst her make-up and brushes.

"Would you like me to do it?" he asked gently.

She looked at him in the mirror. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I do. It's Mal." He stood up and crossed to stand behind her, picking up the brush and running it through her hair.

"I mean, he's been hurt before, and I've not been there. Why should I get all … jittery now?"

"Is that what you are? Jittery?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What would you call it?"

"You love him."

Her mouth dropped open slightly. "Sam, that's not –"

"Like you love Kaylee. And River. And Freya. All of the crew. Perhaps more, but …" He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "I'm not worried you're going to run off with him, by the way."

She had to laugh. "No?"

"No. Besides, Freya would probably have something to say about that."

"Oh, I know she would." Inara could remember previous conversations, when the green-eyed monster otherwise known as jealousy had reared its ugly head. "What I feel … about Mal …" She wasn't usually lost for words, but this time she had to think consciously about what she wanted to say. "I don't want him, not any more. Not like that. Not like I did. But he's still Mal."

Sam tried not to smile, as it would only annoy her. "Inara, I understand."

"Is that the therapist talking, or the man?" she asked sharply, nevertheless.

"Both. The therapist knows that you're trying to be honest with me, but the man knows you're afraid I might not believe you."

"Don't you want me to be honest?" She turned on the seat so she could look into his olive face directly.

"Of course. But Inara, my darling, there's nothing to be honest about. I know you. I know your feelings don't run that way any more." He smiled now. "And don't you want me to carry on brushing your hair?"

"Don't try and change the subject." But she turned back around. "Well?" she asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"Yes, madam," Sam said, the smile widening to a grin as he began his work again.

The repetitive action seemed to soothe her, and she slowed her breathing as she'd been taught so many years ago back at the Training House, when the 'verse was still a closed book to her, and something wonderful and magical all at the same time. Her eyes moved across the accoutrements on the table, then down to her hands and arms. Now, though, sometimes she wondered if she didn't know too much. After all this time the physical scars from her ordeal with Anthony Han were virtually invisible, but the memory could still make her tremble faintly.

Sam noticed. "Thinking of the Monster?" he asked quietly.

"Mmn." She shrugged lightly, the movement elegant as always. "Sometimes thinking about Mal seems to come around to … him." The man who'd killed countless young women, who would have killed Noni, and Inara herself, executed when Mal came to rescue them.

"Another reason you fell into bed with me. I gave you back to yourself."

"In which case I should have bedded Freya," Inara pointed out. "Since she started the process."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"So's she."

Inara's tresses were shining now, slipping between his fingers like oiled water, but he kept brushing. "He saved your life."

"So did you."

"Not physically."

"I don't know about that." Inara picked up a lipstick and began fiddling with it. "There's no way of knowing what would have happened if you hadn't come to treat me."

"Not that."

"Sam, what he did, what that man …"

He tugged on a curl and she made a moue of pain. "Sorry. But sometimes you make me want to put you over my knee and spank you."

"Is that what you advocate for some of your clients?" she asked, her lips twitching.

"On occasion."

Her eyes widened. "If you're joking with me –"

"No joke. But I never did it. Just recommended that a little light corporal punishment might do wonders for their marriage."

"All right, now I know you're joking."

He grinned. "Of course I am. But what people get up to in the comfort and safety of their own home is up to them."

"I have."

He froze for a moment, then gave himself time to compose himself by putting down the brush and picking up the comb. "You still have the capability to shock me, Inara."

"There was one occasion -"

"I don't want to hear."

"But you were playing the therapist card," Inara insisted playfully. "And all that sort of thing is grist to your mill."

He'd had enough. Moving round her so he could look into her face, he dropped to his knees. "Inara, I don't need to hear. I love you. For you. Not for - or in spite of - what you used to be."

"So you don't want to know about the paddles, and the whips, and the -"

"Inara."

She looked into his dark eyes, and wondered why what she felt for this man was so different to what she'd ever felt for Mal. Then, as always, she realised that was the very reason she had been able to give herself completely to Sam, with no fear that he would ever call her a whore. "I love you too," she whispered, leaning forwards to place her lips on his. She added, "My hair?"

He shook his head and got to his feet. "What did your last slave die of?" he asked.

"Boredom." She grinned at him in the mirror as he twisted her hair into a complicated knot and fastened it securely with the comb. "How do you do that?" she asked, turning her head this way and that.

"Practice."

"On who?"

He put his hands on her shoulders. "A great many beautiful women." Leaning down he nuzzled her neck. "Of which you are by far the most beautiful."

"You say the loveliest things." She looked at him in the mirror, his olive complexion, the long black hair pulled away from his face to hang in a single ponytail down his back. "Maybe I should repay the compliment."

He smiled against her skin. "What, and tell me I'm handsome?"

"Oh, you are. But I meant your hair."

He glanced up. "What about my hair?"

"I could … cut it for you," Inara suggested diffidently. "I mean, if you'd like. We've got time."

Sam was surprised. "Don't you like it?"

"I love it," she said quickly, getting up and putting her arms around him. "I just thought perhaps you'd like a change."

"I've had my hair like this for years. Since Dhira was born." He smiled at Inara's look. His daughter and his lover had a somewhat prickly relationship.

"Then perhaps it's time for something different." She picked up a pair of gold-plated shears. "Sit down."

"Inara …"

"I won't take much off. And it will grow back if you don't like it."

"I don't know about this."

"I'll stop when you say so." She snicked the scissors. "Trust me."

* * *

Zoe stepped out into the warmth of the Lazarene sunshine, and smiled. Hank had landed them in their normal spot, not far from the house, and it felt good to be home. Well, maybe not home. That was on board the ship behind her, and always would be, but close.

"Going to our rooms, Auntie Zoe," Bethie called out, running past her, Fiddler barking as he raced on ahead. The other children were following hard on her heels, and they quickly disappeared through the front door.

Sam, who had been about to greet the new arrivals, quickly moved to one side to avoid being mowed down. The last, young Master Reynolds, slowed.

"Uncle Sam," Ethan said formally, his arms full of his cat Maoli.

"It's good to see you, Ethan."

"And you." There was a shout from upstairs. "I have to …"

Sam nodded. "Of course."

Ethan put Maoli down, then followed the sound of fighting. The cat, a sleek grey slip of a thing, meandered up the hall towards the kitchen, a far more enticing place than anywhere else, at least judging from the marvellous smells emanating from inside.

"Anyone would think they were glad to be here," Sam muttered to himself, smiling as he stepped through the door. He could see Zoe standing just a little way from the Firefly, her eyes apparently closed as she enjoyed the fresh air. As yet there was no sign of any of the other adults.

Sam walked through the orchard, the soft grass springing under his feet, and he'd thought his steps were silent, but as he got closer Zoe spoke without even looking at him.

"Sam."

"Zoe." He had to ask. "Does anyone ever creep up on you?"

"It has been known to happen." She opened her eyes. "River, mostly, now."

"And Hank?"

"Oh, I can always tell when he's coming."

Sam laughed. "Where's Mal?"

"Complaining because Simon won't let him walk to the house."

"Is he that bad?"

"No. Simon's perhaps being a little over protective."

Sam smiled. "Ever the doctor."

"Mmn." Zoe tilted her head slightly. "You seem to have something of a new look."

Sam ran his hand through his newly short hair, feeling the ends standing up slightly. Inara had gone a little bit overboard, saying that the first cut was an accident but she had to carry on now. "I suppose I have to move with the times." He didn't add, but could have, that he felt like a shorn sheep.

"I like it."

He was surprised. "You do?"

"Yes. It makes you look younger."

He laughed. "Then maybe I'll keep it."

Zoe nodded and looked past him. "Where's Inara?"

"Making sure all the last minute preparations are well in hand."

"I'd've thought she'd be chomping at the bit to make sure Mal ain't going to die on us."

"Chomping isn't …" He paused. "Actually, that's a pretty good description. But I think she's indulging in a little displacement activity."

"If I knew what that was, maybe I'd agree with you."

"Put me down." Mal's voice from inside the Firefly sounded more than a little irritated.

"Nope. Doc says we carry you, we carry you." Jayne this time, laughter bubbling in his throat.

"If you don't put me down I'll –"

"What?" Hank spoke. "Put us out of the airlock? And stop wriggling, you'll fall off."

"I ain't an invalid!" Mal was apparently not in the mood to be trifled with.

"Yes, you are." Simon's cool voice drifted outside. "Gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind …"

There was some more grumbling, but a few moments later Hank and Jayne stepped out into the light, a stretcher between them carrying one very grumpy captain. Simon was close behind, his medical bag in his hand. Freya was a pace or two further back, but ready in case of emergency, such as Mal taking it into his head to try and be stupid.

"You need some help, honey?" Zoe asked.

"No, no," Hank said, making a lot of huffing noises. "We got this."

"I can walk," Mal insisted.

"Yeah, like I could walk that time." Jayne chuckled. "Little thing like a brain op and doc here says I ain't to be trusted under my own steam."

"By the way, did he ever find it?" Hank asked.

"What?"

"Your brain."

"If I didn't have my hands full …"

River sauntered down the ramp and slipped her arm through Freya's. "No killing the pilot," she admonished. "Not yet."

Jayne grinned at Hank, showing all his teeth.

"No-one's killing anyone. Not 'less I say so," Mal said firmly.

"You're incapacitated," Simon pointed out. "I doubt you could stop them if you wanted to."

"Zoe, stop 'em from killing each other," Mal ordered.

"I'll try, sir." She smiled, then looked at Sam. "Where do you want him?"

"Inara's made up the back drawing room as she did with Jayne."

"Shiny."

"You'll be nice and cozy," Jayne teased.

"I coulda stayed on board Serenity." Mal shook his head. "Didn't need to have any of this fussing."

"Of course you did," Freya said, moving closer so she could take his hand. "You know you like people fussing over you."

"Yeah, when I can walk away from it!"

"Then we'll fuss in a rota. Give you some fuss-free time every so often."

"You promise?"

"I'll write it up myself," she promised.

"Well, okay then," Mal grudgingly gave in. "Only came here for Mrs Boden's food, anyway." His eyes softened for a moment. "Steak and mashed potatoes. With gravy." He was almost drooling with anticipation.

"We'll see," his wife said.

Hank shifted his grip on the stretcher slightly. "Look, can we get moving? Otherwise Mal's gonna end up in the dirt and I'll be looking for another job."

Sam chuckled. "This way, then." He led the way towards the house.

The others followed, leaving only River and Zoe standing outside Serenity.

"Aren't you coming?" the young psychic asked.

"Not for a while. I kinda feel like taking some time to be by myself."

"Kaylee's still on board. She's started her overhaul. Perhaps you could help her."

"Perhaps."

River looked into the older woman's eyes. "I know things can't be changed. I would be a young woman, married to a successful financier in the Core if that were the case."

"That's what you'd want?"

"No. But if I hadn't gone to the Academy, that's what would have happened. And I would be bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, homicidal, bored, bored -"

"Bored. I get that."

"And you wouldn't be you."

"I know."

"But you don't believe it."

"River -"

"Talk to Sam. Take the opportunity. Become sane again." She started to run towards the house. "One of us has to be."


	2. Chapter 2

"I like Sam's new style."

"What?" Mal wasn't really taking in what she was saying, just enjoying the view as Freya moved the pillows into a more comfortable shape behind him, seeing as he was in very close proximity to her chest.

"Sam's hair. He's had it cut." She pushed him back, more than aware of where his eyes had been straying.

"Can't say I noticed." He reached up and tried to undo one of the buttons on her shirt.

Freya moved away slightly. "Stop that."

"Why? We're married."

"And you have to rest. You know what Simon said." She smoothed the blanket, just the one over him because the weather was so mild.

"When've we ever listened to him?" He attempted to catch her around the waist but she batted his hand away.

"Today."

"I feel fine." At her look, he amended it to, "Better."

"Good," she said approvingly. "And I intend keeping you that way."

He sighed, letting himself fall dramatically back onto the pillow as she tucked an errant corner more tidily. Then, when she didn't seem to take any notice, sighed again. Still nothing. "Huh."

She had to chuckle. "Time will fly, honestly." She sat on the edge of the bed, ruining her good work with the covers, and took his hand in hers. "And then we can swing from the support beams."

"That's your thing, not mine." He grinned. "Not that I mind watching, a'course."

"Pervert."

"Thank God."

She stood up, having to pull her fingers away. "Hungry?"

"Not really."

"Then you don't want some of Mrs Boden's cookies, and maybe a proper mug of coffee, or –"

"On the other hand …" he interrupted quickly.

She grinned. "I'll be back."

"Hurry. I'm gonna get lonely without you around to annoy me."

"That's my job." She bent for another soft kiss, then strode to the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well, that gives me a lotta leeway to play with." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Like I said. Pervert."

"Hey, it takes one to know one."

She laughed and left the room, almost running into Inara outside in the hall. "Hey," she said, smiling widely. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Inara said, smiling warmly. They hugged, no sign of the animosity that had haunted the initial months of their relationship. "You?"

"Shiny. Now, anyway. You know I thought you'd've been by before now, see how he is," Freya said pointedly, stepping back a little.

"Well, you know, things to do." Inara waved a hand, as if she was so busy she didn't have a second to herself.

"He's going to be okay."

Inara looked into her friend's face, seeing nothing but honesty there. "I know. Everyone's said."

"You can go and check for yourself. While I find provisions."

"Cookies?"

"For sure."

"You'd better hurry, then. Otherwise you'll be fighting Bethie for them."

Freya chuckled. "I think maybe she'd win – I can't do the eyes like she can. But go and sit with Mal. He'd like that."

"Mmn." Inara plucked at a lock of hair cascading down her cheek. "And he's truly going to be okay?"

"Truly." Freya could see what the problem was – hell it had been her problem too. "It's not like him getting shot, is it?"

"Well …"

"Not that he hasn't had plenty of experience in that regard, but this … because of something else, what someone else did and we didn't know …" A flash of deep-seated anger darkened her eyes. "If he were here in front of me, I'd kill him right now. Only I'd do it slowly, not humanely like Mal did."

Inara didn't need to ask who. "So would I," she said fervently.

The fire died back to an ember and Freya patted her friend's arm. "But Mal's getting better. He's strong. A little thing like this isn't going to keep him down for long."

There was something in her demeanour that peaked Inara's professional interest, something that suggested maybe Freya wasn't quite as all right with this as she pretended, but that could wait. Until a more pertinent time, perhaps with some good rice wine. "I suppose he's being annoying as usual."

"Of course!" Freya laughed again, and it was as if the darkness hadn't shown itself, it was hidden so well. "But go in. I know he's been wondering why you weren't in the orchard when we got here."

Inara lifted her chin, just a trace of defiance in her face. "There are other people to look after than just Mal."

"Oh, tell him that. It might make him more appreciative of the time we've all spent on him." She opened the door behind her. "Go on." She made a shooing motion.

"'Nara? That you?" Mal's voice sounded querulous, almost like an old man.

Inara glanced sharply at Freya, who grinned widely. "He's putting it on. Trying to make you feel sorry for him."

"Really."

"He was propositioning me just a few minutes ago."

"Ain't nobody gonna come talk to a poorly man?" Mal's voice had gotten higher with each word. "Beginning to think nobody loves me no more."

Inara's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you hear screams, ignore them," she said to Freya, then marched into the sick room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Freya couldn't help the grin blossoming across her face.

"Aunt Frey?"

She looked up towards the head of the stairs, at the young woman descending. "Val." She smiled. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you." As tall as Inara, of all the Reilly sisters Valentia was the one who had taken best to the training the ex-Companion had provided in being a lady, even if it meant she was a little formal at times.

"And your sisters?"

Val inclined her head gracefully. "They're fine. Staying out of the way for a while, until everything calms down a little." It had only been a few weeks since they been by, but she and her twin sister Phoebe had passed their eighteenth birthday in the meantime, and she seemed determined to act like a grown up.

"Probably a good idea. You're looking very pretty today, by the way."

The young woman blushed, smoothing the pale blue sheath over a much darker blue dress. "Thank you. So are you."

Freya laughed softly. "Thanks, but I wasn't angling for a compliment." She shook her head. "Besides, I've just been fighting off the attentions of your Uncle Mal. I doubt I look that presentable."

A grin crossed Val's face, but it was gone quickly as she composed herself. "You look fine."

"Right."

"And how is Uncle Mal?" Her gaze lingered for a moment on the closed door.

Freya had to stop another smile. Virtually every one of the Reilly girls had something of a crush on her husband, mainly because he never talked down to them and cared deeply about their welfare. To him, they were family, no matter who their parents had been. "He's … getting there. It'll take a few weeks, but he'll be back to normal before anyone knows it."

"I'm so glad." This time the words were totally sincere.

"Me too. Oh, and … happy birthday."

"Thank you. And for the gift." Val's hand strayed to the silver chain around her neck, a small pendant hanging from it. "It's lovely."

"I thought it was appropriate." The charm, in the form of Chinese lettering, said _Serenity_. "I'm just glad Inara wasn't too busy being busy to remember to give them to you both."

"Too busy being what?"

"Never mind."

Val blinked a couple of times, then said, going back to the original subject, "Phee loves hers too."

"Good."

There was a moment's awkward silence, then Val said, "I'm sorry, was I interrupting you? You looked like you were going somewhere."

"Only to the kitchen. Mal's hungry." She took the opportunity and linked her arm through the girl's. "Walk with me."

"Um, okay."

They headed for the door towards Mrs Boden's domain.

"So, eighteen. Has Mr Kilbrook been in contact?" Isaiah Kilbrook was the lawyer on Mead, who was looking after their affairs. Most efficiently, if reports were to be believed.

"Yes. He's set up an account for Phoebe and myself." She shook her head. "I … I had no idea there was so much money."

"You're both very wealthy young women." Freya glanced at her. "So what do you plan on doing? Technically Mal isn't your guardian any more, but … are you going to stay here?"

Val bit her lip, looking younger than before. "I don't know. Phee and I have talked about it, and … I honestly don't think we've come to anything like a decision."

"Well, there's plenty of time. It's not like Inara's going to throw you out. This is your home, after all."

"I know, but …" She stopped walking, just outside the kitchen door. "We talked about having a house built, close by, and that sounds nice, but …" Her eyes brightened. "I'd like to see a bit more of the 'verse. I mean, we've travelled, a little, from Mead to here and … but I'd …" Her voice faded away.

Freya understood. Despite how their lives had begun, for the last few years they'd been sheltered here on Lazarus, and any change was going to take a while to get used to. "Well, a house would be a good idea, but you have your whole life in front of you. And time to enjoy yourselves. Why not go on a cruise?"

"What?"

"A cruise. Inara has connections, I know, and Sam too, so perhaps it could be arranged. Go and see the central planets, dance at a few balls, have any number of young men fall in love with you …" She could see the idea taking hold. "You're young, you have money, and you're pretty … a deadly combination."

Val laughed, and the façade of being a grown up dropped away entirely. "They wouldn't know what had hit them."

"Just be aware of what Mal's going to be like if you do decide to bring a young man home."

"He wouldn't know."

"You think Inara isn't going to tell him? I'd be willing to bet he gets us to full burn before the Cortex link is cold."

"Oh, do you really think so?" She looked pleasantly surprised.

"Absolutely. And that's besides what your other uncles would be like." Freya sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, you might find they scare them all away."

"I wouldn't mind that," Val admitted wistfully. "If they can be scared, they're not worth it anyway."

Freya patted her on the arm. "That's the spirit."

"Perhaps … perhaps a cruise would be fun." There was excitement bubbling up in her voice now. "Maybe I'll go and find Phee. Talk it over."

"Good idea. You might be able to catch up with Noni, too."

Val nodded enthusiastically. She hadn't seen her youngest sister in a long time. "I've got her itinerary. It wouldn't be hard …" Her mental wheels were turning, and she unfocused.

"Not hard at all." Thinking of Noni nudged Freya in a different direction. "By the way, have you heard from Honor at all?"

Val came back to the moment. "Once in a while." Honoria was her older half-sister, and had gone off with her mother, Hil Dwyer, after Reilly's treasure had been found. Mal was convinced the girl was related to Saffron, seeing a distinct resemblance, but so far they hadn't found any proof of that. "She's written a few times."

"And … how is she?"

"Shiny. Enjoying her money, from what I can tell."

"So her momma didn't swindle her out of it?" Freya hadn't known Hil for long, but it was enough. The woman, who had once been one of Mal's great friends, had apparently changed over the years, and Mal had nearly died because of it.

"No. Honor arranged with Mr Kilbrook to settle some cash on her, but the rest is tied up where she can't get to it."

Freya had to smile. "Seems like that young lady has a head on her shoulders."

"Honor will be all right," Val said, somewhat dismissively. After all, her older sister had walked out on them. "She'll always fall on her feet."

"Seems so."

Val fidgeted. "Aunt Frey, I have to … you know, talk to Phee."

"Go on."

She grinned and disappeared.

Freya laughed. In point of fact, she had no worries about any of the girls, not with Inara at the helm, although Mal would be pleased to hear that Honor hadn't trusted her mother to the point of destitution. But a cruise sounded just the thing. And if she or her sister happened to fall in love with someone suitable or otherwise – and Mal would most definitely want to be in on _that_ decision – then what harm could it do?

She turned to the kitchen door, which opened even as she reached for the handle.

"Madam." It was Mrs Boden, acting as if they had only seen each other a few minutes before.

"I was just coming to see if you had …" She looked past the older woman to the large wooden table, where a tray sat, adorned with three plates, three mugs, a hot flask and a platter so full of her famous cookies it could have fed an army. "Mrs Boden, are you sure you're not psychic?"

* * *

Hank stood on the bank looking out over the lake towards the mountains, feeling the breeze ruffling his untidy brown hair.

"Penny for them?" Zoe asked, stepping up behind her husband and wrapping her arms around his waist.

He put his hands on hers. "Not worth that much."

"Let me be the judge of that."

He stiffened slightly in her embrace, but didn't say anything more than, "Yeah."

They were better, she knew that. A lot better. And maybe River didn't know everything. Just give them time, and they'd be back to normal.

Except maybe they wouldn't. And she couldn't take that.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her breath tickling his ear.

"Shiny."

"Only it's not like you to commune with nature like this."

"I do it all the time," Hank pointed out. "Only usually it's with the stars."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

Okay, she could take the hint. Her arms tightened. "Are you going fishing?"

"Thinking on it. Never really did christen Serenity II." He was referring to the boat Jayne and Mr Boden had built, with his help. Or perhaps hindrance. He was sure there was still a splinter or two in his fingers.

"You could take Bethie."

"Might just do that." He leaned back a little against her. "They off being kids somewhere?"

Zoe nodded, a smile smoothing out the lines on her face. "Treasure hunting."

"I would've thought they'd had enough of that."

"Seems not."

He pulled away, turning to look at her. "Well, one of us had better go make sure they ain't buried our son and heir to be dug up again in a thousand years time." Reaching up, he touched her face, then walked back towards the house.

She wanted to call out, to stop him, but that wasn't going to help. Every so often, she thought it was okay, that they'd gotten past it, then she'd say something, or he would, and the atmosphere would be back again. Like her saying she'd be the judge. And that was half the problem. _She'd_ decided not to tell him about being a Dust Devil. Literally, she'd been the judge not that one. No matter that the others knew, she hadn't told him, hadn't allowed him to make his own mind up. Of course he would have understood, simply because she was being honest with him, but she hadn't given him the chance.

A figure joined him in the orchard, and she recognised the newly spiked hair. Hank stopped, and there was a moment of stillness, of low conversation. They were too far for her to hear the words, but Sam nodded, and they began to stroll through the trees, not hurrying, not trying to get somewhere, just … talking.

For a moment Zoe held her breath as an irrational surge of anger made her heart beat faster. Since that conversation on the bridge, he hadn't even wanted to mention it, and now, here he was, bearing his soul to someone else. That wasn't fair.

Except … of course it was. And for all she wished it would just go away, she understood. He didn't want to talk to her about it because he was afraid of what might happen. Talking to Sam, someone trained to listen, to not be judgmental, maybe it was exactly what he needed.

Perhaps she really did need to follow his good example.


	3. Chapter 3

That evening everyone congregated in the back drawing room to eat, Mal having made it clear that he wasn't intending to be kept out of things that much. Simon had been insistent that the captain wasn't going to be walking anywhere as yet, so with Jayne's help Mr Boden had whipped up a table from nowhere, added chairs, and everyone was crowded around, eating as much of the good food as they could get into their mouths.

Kaylee was talking about Serenity. "In some ways it ain't as bad as I first thought," she was explaining. "Lot of systems died in that EMP pulse, but most of 'em I got fixed already, and those that I've bypassed I should be able to replace."

"Good work, _mei-mei_," Mal praised, and his mechanic blushed happily.

"But the problem's gonna be what I can't see," she went on.

"Can't see? You?" Inara smiled at the young woman.

"Kinda like Mal and that Quicksilver. It did something none of us could see, and it weren't until … well, you know …" She suddenly realised it might not actually be tactful to mention recent events, but everyone was nodding, although Freya was gripping her fork harder than was strictly necessary.

"You mean there might be damage that won't show up until it gets worse?" Hank suggested.

"'Xactly." She grinned at him, glad to get away from a sore subject. "I mean, Bethie's helping, a'course, since she hears Serenity like I do, but we can't be sure we've got it all."

"So how do we fix it?" Zoe asked.

"Can't. Not 'less you wanna put into one of the major shipyards, get a top line computer diagnostic run on all systems."

"Expensive?"

"Very."

"Then we can't afford it," Mal said, wiping a hunk of bread around his plate and popping it into his mouth, chewing contentedly.

"But Cap …"

"Just have to rely on you to fix as and when," he mumbled somewhat indistinctly. Simon had been very firm in denying him the steak, at least for that day, but he'd had fresh vegetables, gravy … all in all, not too bad. He swallowed. "Might be able to swing for some of them spare parts you've been on about, though."

Kaylee brightened up. "I'll make a list."

"A short one."

"In which case I'll make two. One of the things I want, and the other of the things we need. Maybe we can agree some place in the middle."

"You never know."

"I'll help, Momma," Bethie said, then yawned hugely, only remembering to cover her mouth at the last moment. "Sorry," she added.

"I reckon we'll let it go tonight." Kaylee smoothed her daughter's honey coloured hair. "But you remember next time."

"Yes, Momma." Bethie grinned. "But I can help with the lists."

"Okay. I'll tell you want we need, and you can write it down."

The little girl nodded proudly.

"But not tonight," Simon put in firmly. "I think young ladies - and gentlemen - need to get their sleep." He nodded towards Ben, who was leaning against Hank, his mouth open as he dozed.

"Good idea," Kaylee said, starting to push her chair back.

Mrs Boden materialised out of nowhere. "Madam, let me," she suggested.

"How does she do that?" Mal stage-whispered to Freya, who shushed him with a glance.

"Would you?" Kaylee looked grateful that she didn't have to get up, not with her advancing pregnancy, as well as all the food she'd eaten.

"It's my pleasure, Madam." She lifted Caleb from Jayne's lap and settled him on her hip, where the little boy laid his head on her shoulder and snuffled, his arms wrapped around her neck. She smiled at the other children. "Come along."

Hope poked Ben, who woke with a start. "Bed time," she said softly.

He grinned at her. "'Kay." He climbed from his seat, took her hand, and followed Mrs Boden to the door.

Bethie snagged a last dumpling from the platter and pushed it into her mouth, chewing quickly before jumping down. "You gonna come in and say goodnight?" she asked her mother.

"Of course." Kaylee leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't."

Bethie grinned, then grabbed Ethan by the arm. "Come on," she ordered, and they all trooped out, the door closing quietly behind them.

"Don't know if I'm picking up on the psychic stuff," Mal said gently, "but I'm still seeing a wedding in the future."

"Who, Bethie and Ethan?" Simon asked, his eyebrow raising. "Because considering how she treats him -"

"Nope. Ben and Hope." Mal lay back, a devious smile on his face.

"What if they just want to live together?" Freya asked, taking his plate and putting it onto the makeshift table.

"Not having that kinda thing on my boat."

"I'm so glad you have a plan, then. Especially seeing how well that's worked so far."

"Then maybe it should be starting as we mean to go on."

"I think we've got a while 'fore anything like that happens," Kaylee put in.

"Yeah, but … you know, being on a boat n'all … livin' all close like we do …" Jayne made a sucking sound through his teeth. "Might be sooner than later."

Kaylee swatted him on the arm, and River did the same the other side, but he didn't look at all abashed.

"Just sayin'," he went on. "Being in proximity …"

"Zoe, does the septic vat need doing?" Mal asked, ignoring the fact that he'd broached the subject in the first place.

"I believe it does, sir."

"Fine, fine," Jayne grumbled. "I'll just sit here and shut up, then, shall I?"

"Good idea. And the vat still needs doing."

"Can I finish my dinner first?" he asked, plucking two large hunks of bread from the board and wedging yet another thick slice of meat between them.

"Where do you put it all? I mean, all that energy it must produce … how do you burn it off?" Hank asked, shaking his head in wonder, then saw the look the big ex-merc and his wife exchanged. "You know, on the other hand, I don't need to know."

"By far the best idea," Zoe agreed.

Val coughed, just enough to get their attention. "Actually, now they've gone, there's something …" She paused, then looked to her sister for support. Phoebe nodded, and Val went on, gazing intently at Mal, "There's something we wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Mal tried to sit up a little more, and Freya pushed another cushion behind him. "You planning on getting wed yourself?"

"No!" Val turned pink, taking a deep breath to make her heart stop beating quite so fast. "No," she repeated, much more in control. "But it is something that … I know we don't have to ask permission, not now we're eighteen, but …" She stopped, her mouth dry.

"Val, whatever it is, just say it," Mal urged. "I'm a sick man, here, and all this suspense ain't doing me any good."

The young woman looked stricken.

"Ignore him, Val," Freya said. "It's about the cruise, isn't it?"

As Val nodded, Mal said, "What cruise?"

Phoebe stepped in. "We want to go on a cruise, Uncle Mal. Maybe visit the Core. We've never been to the central planets, but we've been looking at the Cortex, and there are some lovely places. Sihnon's main city, for instance, is coming into its summer period, and in a couple of months there's the Solstice Festival, and that looks so interesting, and -"

"Whoa, whoa, there," Mal interrupted, holding up one hand. Phoebe could be relied on to chatter until the end of time, once she'd got started. He glared at Freya. "You know about this?"

His wife gazed evenly back. "I suggested it."

"Really. Really." He looked at Inara. "Did you know?"

"No," Inara admitted. "But I think it's a marvellous idea."

"You do." He shook his head. "Ain't there anyone in this room thinks there's a problem with this?"

"If it's the money you're worried about …" Val began, but stopped as Mal's cobalt gaze settled on her.

"No, it ain't the money. I know you've come into your majority. Kilbrook wrote, told me about the accounts. Intimated there was a pretty fair chunk of cash in them, too, so no, I ain't thinking you can't afford it. I'm thinking it ain't safe."

Sam stirred. "Not safe? Mal, cruise liners are perfectly safe. I've often travelled by them. So has Inara. They have their own engineers, security staff … I don't see the objection."

"They're eighteen!"

"I weren't much older when you took me on board Serenity, Cap," Kaylee pointed out.

"Yeah, but -"

"And I was crewing on a Lancaster," Freya added.

"That's not -"

"Hell, you don't wanna know what I was doing at eighteen," Jayne put in.

"And I was crazy," River breathed. "Still am."

Jayne put his arm around her and squeezed.

"Then it sure as hell is catching," Mal said, shaking his head.

"And what were you doing when you were eighteen?" Sam countered.

"That ain't the point."

"I think it's exactly the point." Sam had never let Mal intimidate him, and he wasn't about to now. "By that age I know a lot of young men out in the Borders had got married, had children, started their own ranches … or is that just because you were a man?"

Mal glared. "No."

"Then why shouldn't these two young ladies enjoy themselves?"

"Because bad things can happen!" He remembered all too well what could occur on board one of those fancy boats, from Inara and River being threatened on the Marrakech, to … a wave of sadness crossed quickly across River's face, and he knew she'd picked up on his thoughts.

_Sorry, xiao nu_, he thought carefully.

She smiled a little. _Don't be. Jethro was only meant to be mine for a while. And now I have Jayne and Caleb._

_Didn't want to hurt you._

_None of it was your fault._

Still, he couldn't help it. And now knowing that Val and Phoebe intended heading off on their own, maybe getting into mischief he wouldn't be around to get them out of …

Freya took his hand in hers. "Mal, that wasn't anyone's fault."

He knew she'd read the thoughts as clear as day in his mind, even the conversation between himself and River, and for once it annoyed him. "People die, Frey."

"No, they don't. Not always. Do you want statistics? Because I'm sure I can find you some."

"What about … pirates, then? Those liners are a magnet to 'em. Wealthy folks, more money'n sense … what's to stop 'em getting boarded?"

"What's to stop Reavers attacking Lazarus?" she countered.

He stared at her. "Frey …"

"I know this is because you care. I understand." She pressed her thumb into the back of his hand, using one of the acupressure points to try and calm him down.

"Then -"

"Are you saying Valentia and Phoebe have no common sense?" Inara asked, looking at the two girls. "Because I can assure you, they have."

Mal sighed. "Not saying that. Gorramit, I know you've done a good job, Inara. But this is … _diyu_, doesn't anyone get it? They wander off, get into trouble, there ain't gonna be no-one around to save 'em!"

"We weren't planning on wandering off, or getting into trouble," Phoebe said softly. "We just wanted to see the 'verse a little."

"'Sides, I'm thinking they'll be taking Crystal and Grace with 'em," Jayne added.

"Who?" Mal's brow furrowed, then he realised. "And don't think I've gotten over you giving them those guns." On their last trip to Lazarus Jayne had bought each of the girls a pistol, small enough for them to handle and keep in their purses, but enough stopping power to be of some use, and then had to endure a verbal battering from his captain.

The big man shrugged. "They can look after 'emselves, Mal."

Inara was nodding. "I hated those gifts too, but at least they are capable of defending themselves."

"You too, huh?" Mal shook his head and leaned back onto the pillows. "You too."

"And you can't keep them children forever," she added.

"I think perhaps this discussion should be held tomorrow," Simon said, not happy with the way things were going. "Mal needs to rest right now and -"

"I'll rest when I'm dead, doctor." Mal stared into the ceiling.

"Which could be sooner than you think if you don't take it easy." Simon moved to the bed, taking the small scanner he always seemed to carry from his pocket. He waved it over Mal's chest. "Or I will give you a smoother."

"Uncle Mal …" Val swallowed, going pale.

"Tomorrow," Freya said quietly, but her voice filled the room, feeling Mal's pulse beating a little too wildly beneath her palm. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, I just thought …"

"Tomorrow, Val."

Val nodded, looking miserable. "Yes, Aunt Frey." She stood up, smoothing her dress. "Good night." She swept out, every inch the young woman Inara had been teaching.

Phoebe followed suit, motioning her other two sisters to do the same. Letitia and Rosemary mumbled a hurried "'Night," then almost ran out of the room.

There was silence for a moment, stretching to a minute, then Hank exhaled heavily. "Well, that went well, don't you think?"

"Don't," Zoe said.

"Why not? You scared the daylights outta the younger girls, and I think it's a fair bet Val and Phoebe are probably going to cry themselves to sleep right now. Good job." He sat back in his chair, his arms crossed.

Mal spoke quietly. "I'm lookin' out for 'em. That's all."

"Mal, we get that," Inara said. "But Val was right. They don't need to ask your permission. She and Phoebe could just as well have packed their bags and caught the next ship off Lazarus. But they didn't. They wanted to speak to you, to explain why … and you made them feel about five inches tall."

He sat up a little. "They're eighteen, 'Nara."

"I became a Companion on my eighteenth birthday. By now I had already seen a dozen clients."

"And you of all people know what I'm talking about."

"Yes, Mal. I do. But you can't assume the same thing is going to happen again." She got elegantly to her feet.

"And what if it does?"

Kaylee absently rubbed her belly. "You can't keep 'em wrapped in cotton wool, Cap. There's gonna come a day when Bethie wants to do something like this, and I know I'm gonna feel just the same as you do, but I know … I _hope_ I'll be strong enough to let her go."

Simon looked at her, his total love shining in his eyes, proud of her.

The door opened slowly, giving barely a squeak, but everyone turned to look. "Daddy?" Ethan stood framed, his hands twisted into his pyjama tails.

Mal felt a wave of shame wash across him. It hadn't occurred to him that his son might pick up on the tension, but he should have known. "Ethan, you're supposed to be in bed."

The little boy shrugged, tugging his pyjama top up. "Arguing." When he got worried, his vocabulary tended to be reduced. "Don't like it when you argue."

"I'm sorry." Mal patted the bed next to him, and Ethan ran across the room, clambering up to lie next to his father. "I shouldn't … sorry."

His son snuggled down. "Don't do it."

Mal had to smile, just a little. "Yeah. I'll try."

Sam watched them, and wondered if it was different with a son. He never remembered Dhira being like that, not with him. "I think it's time we _all_ got some rest," he said softly.

"Good idea." Kaylee levered herself to her feet. "I got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"I can always help out."

Everyone turned to look at Inara.

"Sorry? Was that you offering to get yourself all messed up?" Mal was almost lost for words, but only almost, immensely grateful for her changing the subject, even though what he really wanted to do was argue until everyone saw his point of view.

"I have been known to get my hands dirty," the ex-Companion said haughtily.

"Not sure we wanna hear about that, 'Nara." He managed a twinkle.

"I mean fixing things."

"Sure you did."

"You're incorrigible."

"Daddy, what does incorr .. inc … incorr …" Ethan couldn't get his tongue around the word.

"Means I'm all cuddly and lovable," Mal explained.

"In your dreams," Inara said firmly.

The atmosphere eased noticeably.

"Well, I'll be grateful for any help I can get," Kaylee said. "Come on, Simon. I need a back rub."

Simon looked down at Mal. "I'm not sure I shouldn't stay -"

"Go to bed," Freya said firmly. "I'll call if Mal needs you."

"If you're sure …" He yelped as Kaylee grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the door.

"Us too," River said, jumping up.

"But I was just -" Jayne motioned towards the makeshift sandwich he still had left.

"Bring it with you. For later." She ran a finger across his collar bone.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." He grinned and followed her out into the hall, his plate held carefully in his hand.

"Sir?" Zoe looked at Mal.

"Go on." He glanced down at Ethan, whose eyes were already closing. "I don't think Frey and me are gonna be fighting. Not with him here."

"Good." She nodded. "See you in the morning." She strode out, her back straight, Hank at her side.

Sam waited until they'd gone, then looked at Mal and Freya. "If you want to talk …"

"Oh, I'm thinking there'll be plenty of that," Mal said, his lips twitching.

"I mean professionally."

"Well, thanks for the offer, but I had me enough of that back on Ariel." Mal stifled a yawn, but Freya noticed.

"If we need help, we'll ask," she said quickly.

Inara nodded. "Come on, Sam. Kaylee isn't the only one who needs a massage."

He grinned. "Your wish, as ever …"

"Go," Mal said firmly, "'fore I throw up."

"And tell Mrs Boden not to worry about cleaning up," Freya put in. "I can -"

"No, you can't." Mal took her hand. "You're coming to bed."

"But I can -"

"In the morning. It ain't like Jayne left a whole load of food to spoil anyway."

"True."

Inara hooked her arm through Sam's and looked into his olive face. "I just want to check on Val and Phoebe before we turn in."

"We both will," he said, putting his hand on hers.

Mal shifted uncomfortably. "Tell 'em … tell 'em I'm sorry. I didn't mean to … I was just thinking of … you know."

Inara looked down at him. "They know you care. And they'll make allowances for you not being quite yourself. But you will drive them away if you carry on like this and then you won't know where they are or what they're doing."

"It ain't like I'm trying to spoil their fun on purpose, 'Nara."

"And you're not an eighteen year old girl with more money than you know what to do with," she pointed out.

"Inara." Sam only said the one word, but she nodded.

"Yes, well, we'd best be going."

Freya saw them both to the door, but Sam paused.

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to stay awake?" he asked, glancing past her shoulder to where Mal was easing himself on the bed.

She smiled slightly. "No. It's all right. Kaylee's rigged a comunit, so if anything happens all I have to do is press the button and Simon will be right here. But nothing will."

"Of course it won't." Sam leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Good night."

"Careful," Inara warned. "I might get jealous."

"Then you'd better come to bed and remonstrate with me," he responded as they crossed the hall towards the stairs.

"I may very well do that."

Freya shook her head, smiling slightly, before closing the door and going back to the bed. She looked down at Ethan lying next to Mal, his hair mussed, his blue eyes tight shut. "I think he can stay here tonight," she said softly.

"He's comfy," Mal agreed. "So, are we going to talk?" he asked, watching Freya divest herself of her outer clothing.

"Looks like." She climbed into bed, still wearing her bra and panties. She didn't lie back, though. "Mal, if I thought you'd react like this, I would never have suggested it."

"Then why did you?"

"A cruise. On a liner. Amongst people with money in a controlled environment. Honestly, I don't think there would be a much better place for them to test the waters."

"Why can't they do that here?" He could see her flame tattoo, rioting up her back, but it looked slightly grey. Probably all the worry about him, he surmised. "Inara can throw them a ball, we can invite the local gentry, and no-one has to leave."

She dropped onto her elbow to look at him. "Then what?"

"What?"

"After this ball. Where everyone gets the impression that Val and Phoebe are for sale."

"I didn't say that."

"But that's how it looks. I know. We were invited to one once, when I was about eight. One of our neighbours had a daughter who'd just reached eighteen, and he threw what he called a 'coming out ball'. The poor girl looked terrified, and all her father did all evening was tell various eligible men how much money he was going to settle on her."

"That's not how it would happen, Frey."

She carried on regardless. "Whereas, if he'd sent her off on a cruise, she could have blossomed in her own time, and had some fun, before settling down with the right man. If that's what she wanted."

"It ain't safe, Frey." It was his main point of objection, and he was sticking to it.

"Then how about bodyguards?"

"What?"

"Bodyguards. To look after them."

"And who were you thinking of? Jayne? It'd take a miracle for him to fit in unobtrusively. And River'd never let him go off with a couple of girls, not even Val and Phoebe."

"He's their Uncle, Mal. As much as Hank, Simon … you."

"Still say she'd say no."

"Of course she would. But someone _like_ Jayne. In fact, as much like Jayne as possible. Someone big. Intimidating. Likely to scare off anyone after their money."

"Oh, he'd do that all right. And where were you considering we find this clone?"

"I was thinking perhaps Dillon could help."

"Dillon."

"Yes. He knows a lot of people. I'm sure he could find someone trustworthy."

"Have to be more than just trustworthy."

She fixed him with her soft brown eyes. "So you're going to let them go?"

He held up one hand. "I didn't say that."

"When I was eighteen I killed a man because he was trying to kill me." Her hand went unconsciously to the tiny scar under her right ear, the one only he knew about. "River had already killed a roomful of Reavers."

"I know what you're saying, but -"

"Inara's right, Mal. They can't stay children forever."

"Why not?"

She had to laugh lightly, wary of waking their son. "And have the 'verse full of nothing but kids who couldn't even reach the console, let alone fly a spaceship." She lay back, pillowing her head on one arm. "Everyone has to grow up."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did. So did I. It's just that we choose to act like teenagers sometimes."

"You mean when we …"

She nodded. "Exactly."

"I get what you mean. Honestly. But I … they're not overly mature for their age."

"They survived their father dying, being homeless, basically destitute, then being herded onto a ship they didn't know with people who weren't related to them, then dumped here on Lazarus -"

"Hey, I didn't dump anyone!"

"Personally I think they're amazingly well-adjusted, and most of that is thanks to Inara and Sam."

He lay quietly for a minute, just breathing evenly, until she wondered if he'd gone to sleep.

"They're going on a cruise, ain't they?" he said finally, staring into the shadows above him.

"Actually, if you said no, I think they wouldn't. But I don't know that I could live with the resentment that would generate."

"Me neither."

She rolled over so she could look at him, and placed her hand carefully on his chest, mindful of the healing incision. "Mal, you're a good man. You care about your family, and they're part of it. And I have just one question for you."

"Just the one?"

"For the moment."

"Shoot."

"What are you going to be like when Jesse reaches eighteen?"

"Not planning to touch down on any planet ever again, I conjure."

Chuckling, she leaned forward and placed her lips on his. "I have an idea you're right."

"Gorramit, Frey … ain't I ever gonna get my own way?"

"You do. When it's appropriate."

"Huh." He muttered something obscene.

"Language."

Mal glanced guiltily at Ethan, but he was fast asleep, curled against him. "So you think Dillon might know someone? Or maybe more than one someone?"

"I'm sure he'd be glad to help."

"And maybe by the time we get it sorted, the girls will have gone off the idea, yeah?"

"I doubt it."

He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Me too."

Freya snuggled down, her head on his shoulder. "Like I said, you're a good man, Malcolm Reynolds."

"Nah. But maybe I reflect you instead." He turned enough to look at her. "Are you gonna tell 'em, or shall I?"

"Oh, I think you should. And they'll love you forever."

"Not sure that's gonna make me feel that much better about this." He felt her smile against his skin and closed his eyes, still not sure he was doing the right thing.


	4. Chapter 4

The squeals of delight when Mal announced at breakfast that the eldest Reilly twins could go off on their cruise could probably have been heard on Londinium, and he made a great show of waggling his finger in his ear as if he'd been deafened.

"Thank you, thank you," Val said, hugging her sister tightly since she wasn't allowed to hug her uncle as yet.

"There're a few ground rules, though," Mal added quickly, "so don't think you can just go off and do whatever you want."

Phoebe tried hard to stop smiling, but it wasn't working. "Whatever," she said, waving a hand.

"And the first one is to sit down and eat your breakfast," Inara said.

"Oh, we can't," Valentia insisted. "We're too excited."

"Young ladies should be able to be excited on the inside, but perfectly composed on the outside." Inara smoothed the red embroidered top she was wearing over soft trousers.

"Is that what you are?" Sam asked, mischief in his voice.

"Absolutely." She spoiled the effect by smiling widely at him, then turning back to the girls. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't eat something."

"Yes, Inara," they chorused, turning back to their abandoned breakfasts and nibbling distractedly on toast.

"Right. Good." Mal seemed a little thrown, but he gathered himself. "Okay. These rules. Number one, you don't go anywhere until Inara or me has checked out the liner, and the folks in charge, _dong mah_?"

"Of course, Uncle Mal," Val said, trying to remain calm.

"And we need to know where you are at all times, like with your sister Noni." He'd insisted Theo Hawkins keep them both abreast of where the Hawkins Troupe was going to be playing, just in case.

"And we'd both be expecting regular waves," Inara added.

"Not just them," Kaylee said, smiling widely, happy that the atmosphere of the night before wasn't being repeated. "We all wanna see what you're doing, who you're meeting. Ooh, there's gonna be so much to see, all the different monuments. And shopping. All the malls –"

"And third," Mal interrupted, wanting to get through his list before the talk degenerated into a discussion on the best places to eat, "you're gonna have someone with you."

Val and Phoebe stared at him. "What do you mean?" the latter asked.

"A bodyguard. Couple of 'em, if it can be arranged."

"Uncle Mal, we don't need someone to look after us," Val insisted.

"That's the deal, Valentia. Bodyguards, or nothing." He only called her by her full name when he was being serious.

Val looked at her sister, and some sort of unspoken communication went on.

_No, they're not psychic,_ Mal heard in his mind, and he glanced at Freya. _Just twins._

_You do that with Alex?_

_Not really. But then I'm not sure we were normal twins._

_Not normal. Yeah, I kinda agree with that._

She glared at him, but he just smiled.

Val, the oldest by perhaps ten minutes, turned back. "Okay, Uncle Mal." She nodded firmly, her sister echoing her.

Mal settled back against the pillows again. "Good."

Rosemary, one of the other pair of twins, piped up. "Can't we go?" she asked, nodding towards Letitia. "We'd be good."

The look that passed between Val and Phoebe almost made Mal burst out laughing, but he contented himself with just a smile. "Nope, Rosie. You're too young yet. Give it a couple of years and I'm sure you'll be gallivanting off with the rest of 'em."

"It's not fair," Letitia said. "They always get to do things first."

"And you'll have my almost undivided attention, Letty," Inara pointed out. "Perhaps we could have a party of our own. You should make a list of who to invite."

Letty immediately brightened up, and poked her tongue out at Phoebe, then blushed.

Jayne chuckled, and was immediately silenced with a sharp River-elbow.

"Well, now," Mal said, turning back to Val. "You take a good look through the various things on offer, and decide what ones you'd like. Only make it kinda first, second and third choices, just in case me and Inara think one or other is too racy."

"Mal, what do you think they do on these cruises?" Inara asked, laughing gently.

"Hate to think."

"Mostly it's sit around, talk … and eating of course."

"Food?" Kaylee asked, leaning forward. Ever since River had managed to cure her morning sickness she'd been eating more than enough for two ordinary people her size.

Inara smiled. "Oh, yes, lots of food. More or less twenty-four hours a day."

"Better let their dresses out then," Mal commented.

Every single woman said his name in dismay, and every man tried to hide the smile.

* * *

As breakfast broke up, Kaylee announced she had work to do, turned down Freya's offer to help saying she had Mal to look after, and hurried back to her other baby. The Reilly girls headed en masse for the Cortex link upstairs so they could start looking at all the various cruises on offer, while Bethie gathered the rest of the children and hurried away before anyone could say a word about lessons, shouting back over her shoulder that they were going to get some good fresh air. The sound of the dogs barking faded as they ran outside.

"I don't know," Hank said, shaking his head. "Whenever we're here we hardly ever see them."

"I'm sure Bethie will let you play if you ask nicely," Zoe said, patting him on the arm.

"No, I've got … I thought I'd go fishing," he said, glancing at Sam.

For some reason she felt excluded, but said, "That's nice."

"You just be careful where you leave the fish guts," Jayne warned.

"Good idea," Mal agreed. "There's only room for one injured party in this bed."

"And Mal's not always good with sharing." Freya started tidying up the breakfast plates.

"Leave those," Inara said. "Mrs Boden will think you're trying to take her job."

"Have to keep busy," Freya said, smiling. "Besides, we left them last night. Be a terrible habit to get into."

Once again Inara's sense of something not being said tingled, but she merely filed it away for the moment. "Then I'm sure she won't mind." She looked at Zoe. "And what are your plans?"

The first mate thought for a moment. "Well, I'm not sure I should stray too far from Serenity. In case Kaylee needs some help."

Inara waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about that. I meant it last night. I'm going to change and go straight across."

Mal laughed. "Can't wait to see you up to your elbows in grease, 'Nara."

"Just wait until you're back on your feet," she promised before giving Sam a kiss on his cheek and sweeping out.

"Was she threatening me?" Mal asked no-one in particular.

"Yes," Simon agreed. "As we all feel the need to once in a while."

"What did I do?"

"Do you want a list?" Simon's lips twitched. "And you won't have the opportunity to see her all … greasy. You're staying in bed. I don't want to have to reset those stitches."

"You're a hard man, doc."

"It must be the company I keep."

"Surely is."

"But I'm glad someone's going to be with Kaylee," Simon continued, turning back to the others. "The further she gets in the pregnancy, the more worried I get that she'll try to do too much."

"She wants to get all the damage squared away," Zoe pointed out. "That EMP pulse threw a lot of systems."

"Don't remind me." He remembered having to slice Mal's chest open in the pitch dark, doing everything by feel, keeping his heart going until Kaylee arrived with those glow sticks. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forget the sensation of having Mal's warm heart in his fingers, squeezing gently. "But she should still take it easy."

"Then maybe I should stay," River said slowly. "Jayne and I were going to go hunting, but perhaps …"

"Not rabbits?" Hank looked slightly appalled, little springy fluffy things bouncing around the orchard coming to mind.

"Nope, not this time" the big man assured him. "'Nara says the local farmers've been having trouble with some kinda big cat, taking their livestock, so we were gonna go out, see if we could find it."

"A big cat? Good job Ethan's not listening," Freya said softly, glancing at Maoli sitting imperiously in the sunshine on the windowsill, studiously ignoring everyone. "And don't tell him if you do kill it."

"Weren't gonna kill it, Frey," Jayne said quickly. "Just gonna see if we couldn't … persuade it to go someplace else." He hooked his thumbs into his belt. "We were looking it up."

"All to do with scents," River put in. "Overlay one with the other and make it seem this isn't his territory any more."

"How?" Simon asked, then held up his hand. "No. Don't. I probably don't want to know."

Jayne growled a laugh. "Pretty much have to agree with you there, doc."

"It's a nice day, and we were going to take a picnic, but if Kaylee needs me …" River bit her lip.

"It's okay, _mei-mei_," her brother said, putting his arm around her. "You go and have a good time. I'm not going to do much more than potter, so I'll be around if she shouts."

"You think I should have a word? Make her slow down?" Mal suggested. "It was the reason we set down here, but I don't want her making herself ill."

"I don't think it would get that far, but –"

"I think what Simon's trying not to say is that traditionally pregnancy is supposed to destroy brain cells," Freya said, dusting imaginary crumbs into a pile on the cloth. "And she might suddenly forget what she's doing and take it into her mind to start breaking things instead of fixing them."

"That wasn't it at all. Besides, that's an old wives' tale," Simon said quickly, glaring at her.

"Some of us could be described that way," Zoe responded.

"You ain't old," Hank said gallantly, and she felt warmed by his words.

"You mean the rest of us are?" Freya asked in as forbidding a manner as she could manage, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm going before I say something I ain't gonna live to regret," Hank said, heading for the door. "If anyone wants me, I'll be in the middle of the lake. In the boat," he added quickly.

"Take a com with you," Mal ordered.

"I always do," the pilot said, disappearing.

"Come on, Riv," Jayne said, taking her hand and tugging gently. "Won't be any fun without you with me."

She looked at him, then back at Simon, who smiled encouragingly. Finally she nodded, her face lighting up. "I'll get the sandwiches." She danced out of the room.

"Make it a lot!" Jayne called. "Gotta keep my strength up."

"Is she okay?" Zoe asked, waiting until River was out of ear-shot, and keeping her voice low.

Jayne shrugged. "Yeah. It's just one of those days."

Everyone understood. No matter how much better River was most of the time, and especially since she'd got together with Jayne, there were bad days, or months such as when she was pregnant. As she put it herself, she would always be cracked, but Jayne was the glue that held the pieces together. And if that glue sometimes got a little loose, he was there to pick up the bits and put them back.

"Well, you just keep an eye on my albatross," Mal said softly.

"Always do, Mal. Always do."

* * *

"What do you want me to do?"

Kaylee rolled out from under the auxiliary life support, a smile already on her face at Inara's voice, but it froze as she took in the sight before her.

It was Inara, of course, but no Companion had ever looked like this. She was wearing the coveralls she'd bought when she first moved in, a pair of somewhat ancient looking slippers, and her hair was caught back in a slightly messy ponytail, held in place with a scrunchy. She looked … actually, she still looked gorgeous, and for a second Kaylee felt an irrational surge of jealousy, but it died quickly. This was her friend. She grinned. "What's all this in aid of?" she asked, sitting up awkwardly.

"I volunteered, remember? I'm your help for the day." She looked down at herself. "Am I suitably attired?"

"If you mean are your clothes right, they're okay. Be better once they don't look like they're brand new, and got a few grease marks on 'em."

"Pretty much like me, eh?" Inara laughed. "So, am I just going to be holding things for you?"

"Nope. There's stuff needs fixing, and there's places I can't get into inside my girl that easy no more." She patted her bump fondly. "I was gonna leave 'em, but there's a few need fixing so Mal don't complain when we fall outta the sky, so someone else has to go crawling about inside her."

"You know I'm useless with machinery, don't you?"

"Nah. You just do what I say, when I say it, and we'll be fine."

"I haven't been told that since I was a Companion in training," Inara commented.

Kaylee stared at her then burst into laughter. "Oh, 'Nara, I sure have missed you." She scooted over. "Here. Sit down and I'll show you what I'm working on."

"Single syllables, please."

The young woman grinned widely. "Companion-dummy talk?" she suggested.

"Definitely."

* * *

Freya had taken the last of the plates into the kitchen, and now it was just Mal on his own, lying back on the admittedly comfy bed and listening to the sound of the children playing. Occasionally he could make out words, but often it was just yells, moving into the distance then coming back. Whatever it was, it appeared to necessitate screaming really loudly and running a lot.

The sun had moved enough to throw a golden square onto the floor, only obscured by the blob that was Maoli, who was now washing delicately, her back leg thrown high over her head.

"You know that ain't polite," Mal said conversationally. "Had to stop Jayne doing that once, and you shoulda heard the language."

The grey cat didn't even pause.

"Though how he managed to do it with a full belt of grenades across his chest is something I ain't gonna dwell on too closely."

Maoli lowered her leg and proceeded to lick one paw, rubbing it around her face and across her ears.

"You know where that's been, don't you?"

She ignored him. Just like everyone else. And the sound of the children just suddenly became too much. Listening hard to make sure nobody was about to come in and catch him, he pushed the covers back from the bed and swung his legs around. He sat up and wriggled his pale toes on the cool wood floor.

"I need some sunshine," he said to Maoli, who stared at him.

Well, so far so good. No pain to speak of, like might be expected from the hole in his chest ripping open again, just a slight twinge from the stitches pulling. As long as he didn't do anything stupid, he should be all right. He grinned. Freya probably would think that was exactly what he was being, but seeing as she wasn't actually there with him …

He shuffled forwards on his backside until all he had to do to stand up was lean forward and put the weight on his legs.

"Okay, easier said than done," he murmured, wondering if he was going to back out. "No. Come on. You got through Serenity Valley. Twice. And faced down some of the worst the Alliance could throw at you. A little operation ain't gonna put you down." He took a breath. "On your feet, Sergeant Reynolds."

Maoli gave what he took to be a 'mrowr' of encouragement.

Screwing his face and his courage up, he pushed off the mattress, holding tightly to the bed frame, until he could straighten slowly. Not all the way, that actually did hurt, but enough so that he wasn't in danger of falling flat on his face quite yet.

A particularly loud shout from outside had him walking before he realised it, and suddenly he was leaning on the wall staring into the sunshine. Maoli pushed at him with her triangular head, and he absently ran a finger behind her ear, scratching the spot that made her purr with increasing intensity.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He didn't turn. He didn't have to. Somehow his latent potential abilities told him that Freya was glaring at him from the doorway, radiating anger.

"Watching."

She crossed the floor quickly, her boots making annoyed little sounds, then she was next to him, putting her arm under his. "Dammit, Mal, do you want to end up flat on your back again?"

"Frey, _ai ren_, that's what I was doing."

"You know what I mean."

"I could hear them laughing, Frey." He nodded out towards the sunlit scene, where all Serenity's children appeared to be taking part in a boisterous game of blind man's bluff, with Ethan wearing one of Inara's scarves and even Caleb managing a few steps now and again.

She couldn't stay angry at him, no matter how much she wanted to. "You want to play games?"

"I'd quite like to be outside with 'em. Maybe not running around. Not yet, anyway."

"Not for a good long while."

"But a bit of sunshine'd do me good."

"And if you fall? Rip those stitches?" She put her hand gently on his chest. "Ethan's worried about you enough as it is. You don't want him to be sick, do you?"

He stared at her. "That's pretty low, Frey."

She felt a wave of guilt flood through her. "Sorry. Yes, it was. I don't know what's got into me."

"I do." He smiled. "You love me."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"Is that what it is? I thought it was proximity."

"You're in proximity to Simon and Hank. And Jayne, but we won't go there."

"I'm not sure I want to go there with Simon or Hank, either." She bit her lip. "If I speak to Simon, will you get back into bed for the moment?"

"Rather you were with me."

"That really would do for those stitches."

"Not to actually … you know … _do_ anything." He squeezed her shoulders, just a little. "Just to feel you next to me."

"I have been," she pointed out, easing him back towards the bed, taking most of his weight on her shoulders. "Every night, remember?"

"Yeah, but that was to sleep. This'd just be company."

She laughed, and he felt it vibrate through him.

"Maybe for a while."

"Then you go see Simon, get me dispensation to sit outside for a while."

"Maybe."

"Or I'll be a difficult patient and make everyone's life a misery." He lowered himself onto the mattress, and despite his best intentions, sighed heavily in relief.

"So what else is new?"

* * *

Zoe watched from a distance as Hank rowed the small boat back to the beach, giving Sam just enough time to climb onto the shingle before pushing off again, heading towards the centre of the lake.

Sam stood still, his hands in his pockets, perhaps watching Hank manoeuvring the boat, or just staring into the distance at the ring of mountains on the edge of the world.

She continued down the small incline to the sand, setting one of the two deckchairs down next to her as she attempted to get the other into a suitable position for sitting. After it snapped at her knuckles twice, and fell on her foot once, she swore at it.

Hearing the Chinese cursing, Sam turned and walked towards her. "Are you having fun?" he asked, smiling.

Zoe looked up from where she was struggling. "I never could get the hang of these gorram things."

Sam chuckled. "I keep asking Inara if we could burn them, but she always says no." He reached her. "Let me."

"Fine." She let go and the deckchair lay on the sand, looking innocuous and not at all like it had just tried to eat her fingers.

"There is a knack." Sam leaned down and took hold of one of the cross-pieces, pulling it up. Something slid against something else, there was a click and …

"Damn." Zoe stared at the chair, set at just the right angle to invite anyone to sit in it. "You sure it ain't gonna fold up on me?"

"No. I promise." He smiled and did the same to the second, lowering himself somewhat carefully down onto the striped fabric. "See?"

"If I end up on my backside …"

"You won't."

"Hmmn." She sat, gingerly at first, then letting her whole weight be supported. Nothing beyond a slight groan from the wood. "Looks like I don't have to kill you right now, after all."

"I'm quite glad of that."

"Although I'm feeling really guilty about being here, enjoying the sun."

"Why?"

"Well, there's Kaylee, pregnant, stuck in the engine room … and there's us, taking the air."

"Did you ask her?"

"I did."

"And what did she say?"

"To let her get on with it."

"And the second deckchair?"

"Inara was heading on over to Serenity, told me to bring both in case anyone wanted to sit a spell."

"Good idea," Sam said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

She studied him for a moment, the newly short hair, his olive skin, and calm face … "Did Hank ask you to come and speak to me?"

"Why would he do that?"

"You know, I kinda hate people who answer a question with a question."

"Yes, Inara doesn't like it either."

"A jade's trick."

Sam looked across at her in surprise. "Quoting Shakespeare at me now?"

"Have to wrongfoot you somehow."

"I have to say, Much Ado About Nothing is one of my favourites."

"Saw it once, long time ago. My parents took me to a theatre, as a birthday treat, when I was about twelve. We were only in port for a day, and the company probably wasn't very good, but I … it was amazing. For the longest time after I was determined to go on the stage myself, but I never told Mom or Dad. Don't honestly know why."

"Because it was something you wanted to keep close to your heart. And talking about it might make it vanish into air."

"Probably."

Sam pondered. "Appropriate, though, don't you think? A play about someone being tricked into believing an untruth about the person they love."

"I've the feeling what you want to talk about isn't exactly an untruth." She fixed him with a stern eye. "What did he say to you?"

"Who?"

"I know Hank's seen you. More'n once. We don't keep secrets." She realised what she'd said, and her dark skin flushed a little. "Well, maybe we do, but not …"

"Yes," Sam said, letting her out of her embarrassment. "Hank has spoken to me. He wanted my opinion."

"Did you give it?"

"Yes."

"And what was it?"

"Well, technically, since I am still a therapist and I could class Hank as my patient –"

"You told him that it was the past, and that no matter how much we'd like to, we can't go back and change it."

Sam nodded. "Pretty much. It's what he wanted to hear."

"Is that all therapy is? Telling a person what they want to hear?"

"Sometimes. People need to get stuff off their chest, and they just want a willing ear." He leaned back, staring out over the lake towards where Hank was sitting in the small boat, fishing quietly. "And sometimes people want advice."

"He didn't ask for any?"

"I told him to talk to you."

"Right." She followed his gaze.

"But if _you'd_ like to talk, in a professional capacity …" He waited, his dark eyes on her face, letting her decide.

She gazed at Hank who was fiddling with his rod, probably fixing something to the hook to attract the fish. He looked so intent on his task, just like when he was flying Serenity. Even then she loved to just watch him, being so very good at what he did. Finally she sighed, "What did he tell you about Sweetwater?"


	5. Chapter 5

In the warm sunshine by the lake Zoe stared out across the water to where Hank had baited his hook and dropped it off the side of the boat, and was now waiting for something to bite. Pretty much like she was doing. She'd asked Sam what her husband had said about Sweetwater …

"Not a great deal," the therapist admitted. "It wasn't the specifics he wanted to talk about."

"No. He said that didn't matter."

"I have, of course, heard of it."

She jerked her head around to look at him. "You have?"

"Of course." He looked surprisingly relaxed. "It's almost impossible to read anything about the war without encountering the Dust Devils. That the places they hit were mostly military, but there were other incidents. Soft targets."

She was surprised. "Sweetwater was listed?"

"It was."

She sighed heavily. "My ignominy writ large for the 'verse to see."

"It didn't mention names."

"That's only a small comfort. They didn't know who we were, else I'm sure we'd be splashed over the pages."

"Probably." He ran a hand through his short hair, and an idle and treacherous thought crossed his mind as to how long it would take to grow back, but his main focus was on the woman next to him. "You were in the camps with Mal, yes?"

"Mmn."

"So the Dust Devils were after?"

"No. Before." She leaned down and picked up a stone, tossing it into the lake, watching ripples spread across the water. "Mal … after we got picked up by the medships, he got sick. Real sick. Only it wasn't just his body that was rebelling. They put him in the infirmary, wouldn't let me see him at first, then when I managed to get there he hardly seemed to know me. It made me … mad, I guess."

"So you joined the Dust Devils for him?"

"That's what Hank asked. And no. Not really. But … there was an escape planned, and I got caught up in it. I didn't want to go, wanted to stay close to Mal, but they said I had to, since otherwise they were afraid I'd tip the Alliance off." She shook her head. "As if I would. But I didn't really have a choice."

"Why did the others want to escape? As you said, the war was over, and there was talk of repatriation."

"Yeah, and talk of trials for those they considered war criminals. Folks on board that ship were scared. Hell, I was scared for Mal, seeing as he'd held out longest of 'em all. But when it came down to it, he was only a Sergeant, and that didn't count for much in the grand scheme of things."

"I thought he had a field promotion, to captain."

Zoe gave a grunt of laughter. "If he had, it didn't exactly get through to the rest of us. I don't know, Sam. Whatever, they decided being tossed into the camp on Santo was enough."

Sam nodded, aware of what had gone on in some of those places. "So, you escaped."

"Yeah." She stared back into the past. "I can only figure they thought we were too plain worn out to worry about, 'cause their security was shit. We got away, and I ended up joining the Dust Devils."

"Until Sweetwater."

"Up until then, you're right. It was mostly military targets, missile silos, the odd barracks. Then we got word that the folks on Sweetwater had been collaborators and they were building new ships to attack good Browncoat worlds."

"Was that true?"

"Damned if I know. I was so numb by then they could've told me the sky was pink with orange polka dots and I'd've believed 'em." She glanced at him, only seeing the neutral understanding of the trained counsellor. "Soon wore off once I realised it was just women and kids, old folks."

"Didn't you try and stop them?"

Zoe closed her eyes, hearing the screams again. "I wish I had. But the hardliners would just have killed me too, and I guess I valued my hide more than I thought. Did kill Gibson, when he protested. But me, MacLean and a few others, we slipped away first chance we could." She almost laughed again. "It was odd, but up 'til that point I'd not really cared if I died, not for a long while. I mean, I'd joined up with the Dust Devils because I thought things couldn't get much worse. Being left in that Valley after the Angels came and they weren't ours …" Seeing his face, that look, disbelief warring with the total and utter loss of the faith that he'd had wrapped around him like a living blanket, warming his soul through every day of battle, having it ripped away from him leaving him naked, vulnerable. She wanted to go out and kill them all.

"So how did you end up in the camp with Mal?"

"I got caught." This time the laugh actually tickled her throat. "Stealing a loaf of bread of all things. I was so hungry by then I suppose I got careless, although there's always the possibility that I knew they were coming, and my subconscious betrayed me. Anyway, they scanned me, found out I was an escaped prisoner, that I'd served with the 57th … and next thing I knew I was being herded into the camp on Santo, and there he was, larger than life."

"I imagine he was glad to see you."

"Glad I wasn't dead, at least. Although by the end of our time there, I began to wonder if that might not have been better."

He didn't ask, not about that. Things others had said, that Inara had let slip, meant he didn't have to. "Did you tell him? About the Dust Devils."

"Yeah. Not straight away, though. I mean, he was better, at least on the outside, but I could see he was barely holding it together on the inside. But after Frey joined us, she managed to get a bottle of booze from someplace, and we got drunk. I told 'em both then."

"They understood."

"Frey did. Straight off. Took Mal a while longer, but we got past it." A half smile crossed her lips. "I think he actually started to heal a bit then."

"From you telling him about the Devils?"

"I wish it was, but … no. Probably from having Freya there."

"And did that make you jealous? That it wasn't you who helped him?"

"It did. Once." She looked out at Hank, checking his line again. "Not because I wanted that kind of relationship with him … it was never like that."

"Why not? He's a good-looking man. Strong. Why wouldn't you?"

"Because he was my sergeant."

She sounded like there couldn't possibly be another explanation, and maybe there wasn't. He went back to the subject. "Zoe, what you did … There's a part of you thinks that man Boone was right. That you deserved to die. Isn't there?"

She surprised herself by nodding slightly. "War was over, Sam. We … there's no excuse for what we did."

"But you're not looking for an excuse. You're looking for absolution. Someone to say that because you left the Devils you weren't at all responsible for their crimes."

"Except it don't work like that."

"No."

She studied Hank, who was sitting so still she knew he wasn't even trying to look like he was fishing any more, just waiting. "So do I ask him for forgiveness?

"There's no need."

"But it's put a strain on us. On our marriage." Zoe turned her dark gaze on Sam.

"Zoe, sometimes I'm amazed that your marriage works at all, but it does. Just like I'm amazed at River and Jayne. At Mal and Freya. Hell, at me and Inara, and we're not even married." He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee so he could look directly into her face. "The best relationships aren't about always being happy. What they _are_ about, is trust."

"Trust?"

"What upsets Hank more than anything is that you didn't trust him. With what you were once, a long time ago. With the knowledge. Everyone knew, except him. And the way he looks at it is that you didn't tell him because you didn't trust him."

"I did! I do!" she protested.

"Then that's what you need to say to him." He stood up, running his hand across his head once more. "Now, I'm going to find Inara, make sure Kaylee doesn't have her chained to the engine … although there's a part of me that wonders if she wouldn't like that … and I'll leave you two to talk."

"What?"

He nodded towards the lake. "Talk," he repeated quietly, and walked up the shingle.

Zoe turned back, and saw Hank was rowing towards her. Standing up from the deckchair, she stepped to the water's edge, waiting until the bow of the boat touched land, then pulled it up.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey."

"Catch anything?"

He stood up, a trifle unsteady as the boat rocked beneath him. "Nah. Not even a small one."

"Jayne will be pleased."

"You know, I wouldn't really fill his bunk with fish guts."

"Good."

"Mainly because River'd probably do to me what I did to the fish."

"That's true." She waited until he climbed out. "I'm sorry."

He looked up in surprise. "What about?"

"Not telling you."

His eyes hooded a moment, then were clear again. "Thought we'd agreed it didn't matter."

"No. You said you didn't want to hear the details, but … you thought I didn't trust you."

He shrugged. "Zo, you don't. Not really. And it ain't like I've exactly earned that trust, have I?" He started towards the bank.

She had to follow. "What are you talking about?"

"My gambling. The fact that I didn't do what I said I had. Didn't stop, not until my head was in the noose."

She hurried forward, grabbed his arm and turned him around. "Is that what this is all about?"

"Why don't you tell me?" He sounded belligerent, as if it was a subject he'd gone over and over in his head until he couldn't bear it any longer.

"Are you thinking that in some twisted sort of way all this is my fault? That I didn't trust you before, so when you were gambling behind my back it was just … I don't know, justifying that lack of trust?"

"Zoe, that doesn't make sense."

"Yes, it does. On an odd, very strange level, it does." She moved closer. "I did trust you, Hank. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But it wasn't because I didn't trust you."

"You told Wash."

Ah. Now she understood a lot better. "Yes, I did. But not right at the beginning of our relationship. We were already married, had been for some time. And … it came out in something of a life and death situation."

"And that wasn't?" He pointed in the direction of the Firefly with his fishing rod. "Boone, the others … they would have killed us all. How much more of a life and death situation did you want?"

"And I told you then."

He stared at her, his lips tight. Then he nodded slowly. "I guess … yes, all right. But he still knew. So did the others."

"But it was the fact that _Wash_ knew, isn't it?"

"No." His mouth was denying it, but his grey eyes were doing exactly the opposite.

"Oh, Hank. Don't ever compare yourself to him."

"Why not?" The belligerence was still there, if less solid. "He had you first. He's always going to have had you first."

"And Risa had you."

"That's not the same!" But the declaration had lost its heat.

"Isn't it?"

"Are we going to argue about this?"

She felt a smile tug at her lips. "Do you want to?"

"Not … no. Not really."

"Then we won't." She eased her grip on his arm, more certain he wasn't going to storm off. "This has brought up a lot of suppressed feelings, hasn't it?"

A guilty look haunted his face. "Maybe."

"About Wash. About him knowing things about me that you don't."

"Might."

"Did you know he was jealous of me and Mal?"

It was Hank's turn to look surprised. "He was?"

"He didn't believe our relationship could be what it is. Not without something else behind it."

"But there isn't. Is there?"

"No. We went through a war together, Hank, and that made us … more than family. But it never made us a couple. Not like that. Not like him and Freya."

"But Wash thought it had?"

"He was afraid it had. In the middle of the night, sometimes, or when he was on the bridge for long spells of time with nothing else to do but wonder."

"Honey, I know you'd follow Mal into the jaws of hell. We all have, I guess. But I never thought –"

She put her finger on his lips. "I know. And that's the point. And in a way that's why I never told you about what I was. What I had been, for a few short months. Because you trusted me, and I was afraid you wouldn't love me the same way if I did."

"You know you're _er bai wu_, don't you?"

"Probably. But it isn't for lack of trust. Fear, maybe. But trust … no."

"Even after Newhall?"

"That was different."

"Okay, maybe it was." He very deliberately put the rod and basket down, then took her into his arms, feeling her along his body, holding her tight. "I'm sorry, Zo."

Her own arms came up, holding him against her. "Me too."

"It's gonna come up again, though, isn't it?" He felt her stiffen slightly.

"Probably. When we argue. But we can get past this."

"That we can." He moved back enough to gaze into her eyes, dark troubled pools that he wanted to smooth into calmness. "I love you. No matter what. What you've done in the past, what you're gonna do in the future, I love you."

"And I love you too." She brushed her full lips against his, before they met bruisingly hard, each trying to let the other know the depth of their feelings.

* * *

A few miles away, just under the overhang of a low range of rocks, River nodded, a slight smile on her face.

"What?" Jayne demanded, his voice almost silent, not wanting to scare off their prey. "You got the scent?"

"No," she said softly. "Hank and Zoe."

His face wrinkled in disgust. "Hell, I thought that was all settled."

"No. But it's getting better." She lowered herself elegantly to the dirt, and opened up the picnic basket. "Time to eat," she said.

"Now?" He looked up at the sun, not past its zenith yet. "Not that I ain't hungry, but I thought we were gonna wait until we found that cat."

"Him?" She shrugged. "Oh, I told him to leave ages ago. He's already making for a new home, a long way off."

He put his fists on his hips and glared at her. "We came all this way and you coulda just talked to the damn thing from 'Nara's place?"

"I could have," she admitted, lifting out a lidded box. "But then we wouldn't have this time together. Alone." She pried off the lid and sniffed appreciatively. "With chicken."

He dropped to the ground. "Chicken?"

"I think you love food more than me," she chided, reaching back into the basket.

"Hell, moonbrain, if'n we didn't have two beans to rub together for heat I'd still come out into the middle of nowhere to be with you. You know that."

She looked up at him and smiled brilliantly, making his heart beat faster. The smile grew wider, if anything, and she patted his arm. "Before or after?" she asked.

He grinned, a certain wildness in his eyes that reminded her of the big cat they'd come looking for. "How about both?" he growled, reaching for her.

She sighed happily at the feel of his lips on her neck, and just before all thoughts turned to nothing but Jayne, she heard her inner voice say o_nly Freya to go_. Then she surrendered to the sensations.


	6. Chapter 6

After the first hour Inara knew she was never going to get her fingernails clean ever again. The manicure Sam had given her – another of his many talents that he'd apparently learned from his late wife – had long been ruined, and the skin on her hands had roughened up, but that wasn't everything. Bits of rust had found their way into places they had no right to be, and she knew black marks were rubbed into her face and arms. By the time Kaylee said she was done, and the panel popped back on, she was sure the girls she'd taught at House Madrassa would never have recognised this grease monkey.

Kaylee caught her staring at her cuticles. "Don't you worry none about that," she said. "I've got something that'll take that crud right off."

"Maybe I should have worn gloves," Inara considered.

"Could, but you can't get a feel of things. And sometimes that's all she needs, just a hand touching her." Kaylee suited the word to the deed and stroked the engine housing.

"So who's going to be doing this when you can't get to anything at all?"

"Frey. And River. Bethie's gonna help, tell 'em where she's hurting, and they'll fix it. A'course, I made 'em promise not to swear in front of her, but somehow I ain't holding out much hope."

"Kaylee, I think Bethie probably knows a fair amount of curse words by now."

"You say that like it's a good thing. It ain't. She's a little girl, and she shouldn't be increasing that vocabulary."

"Then I'm sure her two aunts will do their best." She nudged Kaylee. "Maybe they'll just think it instead."

"That won't help."

Inara had to smile. "Three Readers, all in the same room, working on the same thing. I doubt that's happened much anywhere else."

Kaylee didn't smile. "Yeah. 'Cept I think maybe it did."

"What is it?" Inara put her arm around the younger woman's shoulders.

"Just something River talked about. After all that business on Hera. Don't know if she knew I was listening, or didn't care, but she was talking to the Cap. About others, like Mara. From back in the Academy."

She felt ice slip down her spine. "Other psychics?"

Kaylee nodded slowly. "Maybe a dozen or so. More, p'raps."

"Did Mal say he wanted to go after them?"

"Nope. But he woulda told Freya, and I know she'll have been thinking on it."

Inara leaned back. "It's been a few years, Kaylee. It's possible they aren't alive anymore."

"I know." Kaylee sighed heavily, stroking her swollen stomach absently. "But I hate to think of 'em being locked up someplace, if they ain't."

"They might not be locked up," Inara said thoughtfully. "It's possible they work for the Alliance."

Kaylee shrugged. "Maybe. Although if they did it's a wonder they ain't found River yet."

"They might not be as strong."

"Not sure what I figure's worse – being prisoners or working for them purplebellies."

"Do you think Mal's considering trying to find them?"

"I don't think so. But if he came across 'em, knew for sure that they needed rescuing … I ain't sure what he'd do if'n that happened."

"He'd be Mal."

Somehow that seemed to brighten the young woman up. "Yeah, reckon maybe you're right."

There was a sound from the doorway, and they both looked around.

"What have you done with Inara?" Sam asked, leaning on the metal frame and crossing his arms. "I'm away for five minutes, and you've made her disappear and somehow created this engineer in her place."

Inara grinned, and held out her hand. He took it, pulling her to her feet then examining the grease that had transferred to his palm.

"Oh, sorry about that," Inara said, rubbing at it and only making it worse. "It's probably good for your skin, though."

"I'm sure it is." He smiled. "Well, I've come to rescue you."

Inara shook her head. "No. We've got work to do." She glanced down at Kaylee, who was grinning. "I would be derelict in my duty if I didn't stay and help."

"Duty?"

"I promised. I'm here for as long as Kaylee needs me."

"That's very commendable. But I actually meant both of you. Mrs Boden sent me in to tell you in no uncertain terms that an early supper will be served shortly, and if you come to the dinner table in the state that she's sure you're in, you'll be going to bed empty."

"She said that?" Kaylee asked, struggling to stand.

Sam immediately helped her up. "I'm probably paraphrasing a little. But the gist is right."

"What time is it?" Inara wanted to know.

"Getting on for five."

She was shocked. "It can't be."

"Time don't exactly run the same in here as it does everywhere else," Kaylee explained, shrugging with one shoulder. "I tried to get River to work it out once, but she used a whole load of ten credit words, and finally said I was imagining things. All I know is, I get to working on my girl here, and I don't know if it's supper time or Christmas."

"Well, it's definitely supper time," Sam confirmed.

Kaylee's grin got wider. "Good, 'cause I'm starved, and at least I don't have to cook it myself tonight."

"You have about an hour to clean up," he added, looking both women up and down.

"An hour?" Inara looked down at herself. "It's going to take me longer than that. I need a bath at least, and wash my hair, do something about my hands ..."

Kaylee looked wistful. "Relaxing in that big old tub. Sure sounds nice." She looked at the dirt under her own fingernails.

Inara felt guilty. "You take it, _mei-mei_," she insisted. "I'll use one of the other rooms –"

"No. No, that's fine." Kaylee absently ran a hand through her somewhat tangled hair. "'Sides, all my stuff's here. I'll have a quick shower and be right over. But maybe I can take a long soak another day."

Inara smiled and hugged the younger woman. "Of course. You tell me when, and I'll make sure there's plenty of soft towels and some bubble bath."

"You're on!"

* * *

As Inara and Sam walked out through the cargo bay doors, the ex-Companion's stomach rumbled.

"Did you eat anything?" Sam asked, hooking his arm through hers, and ignoring the way she tried to pull loose so she wouldn't stain his clothes.

"Kaylee got us a couple of protein bars at some point, while I was half inside some piece of equipment or other that I have no idea the name of, but apart from that ... no." Her belly growled again, and she laid her hand on it. "You know, this is so unladylike."

"I don't mind," Sam said, smiling. "It's nice to see you being something else for a change."

"As opposed to what?"

"You always look so ... put together. Even when we're relaxing, you're still Inara. But this ..." He indicated her body from head to foot with a wave of his hand. "... this is new. And I rather like it."

"All greasy and sweaty."

"Mmn."

"Maybe there's really two of me," Inara said playfully. "The one who wears the silk and satin, and the other who has a ponytail." She swung her head, making her own hair flick into his face.

"And I'm in love with both of them."

He said it so naturally, so unforced, that for a moment she couldn't breathe. Finally she just said, "Thank you."

He smiled and pulled her closer, kissing the tip of her grease smudged nose. "You're welcome," he whispered softly as they carried on towards the house.

Up ahead she could see the children were clustered around something, or someone, but it took another moment or two to realise just what. "Is that Mal?" she asked.

"It is."

Serenity's captain was sitting in one of the armchairs from the yellow drawing room, a blanket around his knees, another around his shoulders, and he was holding court. That was the only description that fitted. All of the children, including the Reilly twins, were sitting at his feet, apparently enthralled by whatever he was telling them, while Simon stood to one side, his arms crossed, an indulgent expression on his face. A little further off, under the trees, Hank and Zoe were standing together, leaning against each other, looking better than they had done since they arrived.

Only Freya looked at all concerned, standing behind her husband, watching his every move.

He looked up at their approach. "Hey, there, 'Nara. Thought you'd got sucked into the intake, the time you've been."

"What's all this?" she asked, looking from one adult to the other. "I thought Mal was supposed to be an invalid."

Simon moved forward. "Special medical dispensation," he explained.

"He threatened you?"

"Sort of."

"I was bored," Mal said. "Lying in there, hearing everyone else having fun. So I decided to get me a suntan." He glanced up into the sky, at the golden orb making its leisurely way down towards the horizon. "I have to admit, I think it's done me a power of good."

"Yes, but you don't want to get chilled." Freya pulled the blanket firmer around his shoulders.

"I'm fine, Frey," he assured her. "It ain't cold."

"No, but –"

"And I haven't finished tellin' the kids here tales of when we were young and incredibly pretty yet."

Out of the corner of her eye Inara saw Zoe roll hers, and Hank grinned.

"That's ancient history, Mal," Inara pointed out.

"No, it's fun, Auntie 'Nara!" Bethie looked up. "I didn't know you once put on a belly dance outfit to help with a heist."

It was Simon's turn to look pained at the way his eldest daughter used words like 'heist' quite so easily.

"Yes, well, it was an emergency," Inara said quickly. "As someone who shall be nameless was locked up in the jail and needed a diversion."

Mal coughed quickly. "Permaybehaps that ain't quite the tale for young ears."

"And I thought you kept that outfit for me," Sam said, making the children laugh.

"I do. Now." Inara smiled at him, and the others were delighted to see a faint blush grace the good doctor's cheeks.

"And I think we'd better all go inside," Freya said. "Before it gets dark."

"There's plenty of time before that, _xin gan_." Mal looked over his shoulder at her, feeling the stitches in his chest tug a little. "In fact, I was thinking perhaps we could eat out here. Been a while since we did that."

Freya shook her head. "No, I don't –"

"I think it's a great idea," Hank put in. "I'm sure me and Mr Boden can rig up some kinda table out here, big enough for all of us."

"What're we talking about?" Jayne boomed from under the trees as he and River came towards them, swinging the empty picnic basket from one big hand.

"Daddy!" Caleb said, holding out his arms to be picked up.

"Hey, there, big feller," his father said, lifting him easily onto his hip. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

His son just pulled at his goatee as usual.

"We were considering eating outside," Hank explained.

"Good idea. I'll help."

"No, wait, I –" Freya tried to say, but was drowned by the children all letting everyone else know they thought it was a good idea too.

River pulled a piece of dry grass from her hair. "I'll go and tell Mrs Boden," she said, and walked silently towards the front door, chewing the end of the stalk.

"I gather you had a good day," Simon said, watching his sister with amused affection.

"Could say that," Jayne agreed, grinning.

"And the ... the reason you went out there?" Simon glanced down at the children.

"Done. Not a drop of blood spilled either."

"River?"

"Uh huh."

"Good."

"You can say that again." He chuckled and winked at the younger man.

"How's Kaylee?" Simon asked, turning to Inara and not wanting to really get any details of his sister's sex life, no matter how much of a professional doctor he was.

"Taking a shower." She glanced down at her hands. "And I have to get cleaned up as well." She looked at the big ex-mercenary. "Jayne, would you go and talk to Mr Boden about a table? I'm sure there's something we could use without dragging the one out of the dining room."

"Sure thing, 'Nara."

Inara walked up to Mal. "And don't get the children too excited or they won't sleep tonight."

"And there I was about to recount the tale of a certain ball, and you coming to my room that night, scantily dressed if I recall."

"You do and it's the last you'll ever tell," Inara threatened with a smile.

"And me a sick man, too."

"Not that sick."

He grinned at her. "Okay. Then I'll regale 'em with the one about the boa constrictor. What did you call him?"

She decided not to encourage him. Instead she sighed heavily and headed towards the house, passing Freya close enough to hear her muttering something under her breath about nobody listening to her at all.

* * *

One bath and a whole tub of body lotion later, Inara felt a little more like herself, although she was coming to the conclusion that there was more than just one of her. Perhaps this was what Freya felt like all the time. Woman. Wife. Mother. Fighter. Psychic. And possibly schizophrenic.

She smiled, lifting her heavy hair up into a roll at the nape of her neck so it could dry without having it dripping down her back. She glanced at her nails again, and sighed. They would have to wait, but perhaps she could get Sam to work on them before bed.

Standing up, she smoothed the gold and black sari down over her hips, then opened her door.

Freya was outside, her hand up to knock. "Inara."

"Freya."

"I ... food's ready."

"Good. I'm hungry. It must be working on Serenity's engine. No wonder Kaylee likes her food."

"Must be." Freya smiled and backed up, heading for the stairs, then had to stop. Inara had her hand on her arm.

"You know, actually, what I need most is a drink."

Freya's eyebrows raised. "Well, I'm sure Mrs Boden can find something in the cellar."

"Not that kind of drink. Something stronger."

"They're waiting dinner on us."

"Then they can wait a little longer." She pulled her friend back towards her room. "Come on."

"'Nara, not that I'm not grateful for the offer, and flattered, but I'm honestly not that way inclined."

It was a bad joke but Inara still smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not attempting to seduce you. I just think perhaps you need a friend."

Freya jerked her arm away. "No offence, but I've got friends. Lots of them. Including you."

"Ah, but do any of them have a particularly good rice wine? Aged in oak for fifteen years? Moreover, from the Chi Loh valley on Sihnon?"

Freya paused. "Chi Loh?"

"Mmn."

"Aged fifteen years?"

"And another fifteen in the bottle. It's so smooth it's like drinking sunshine."

Freya glanced back towards the stairwell. "But Mal might need me."

"He has everyone else fluttering around him, including Val and Phoebe who can't seem to do anything at the moment except answer his every whim."

"It's because he's said they can go on that cruise."

"I know." Inara smiled. "And I have an idea you had more to do with him changing his mind than anyone else."

"Well –"

"So I'm sure he won't mind you taking out a few minutes to be with an old friend. To be with me." She looked up and down the hall as if someone might be eavesdropping. "Besides, I'd like to chat properly too."

"You've got Sam."

"And believe me, I talk to him all the time. But sometimes … you know how it is. You want a woman to talk to. Someone who understands. Who has the same physical parts."

"Inara, I said I wasn't interested."

"I didn't mean that." She tugged her inside her room. "But it's easier to talk to someone of the same sex on occasion."

"Well, yes, but –"

"Drink. Just one. Please?"

* * *

"Where the hell are they?" Mal asked, glaring at the front door as if swearing at it might make them appear. "She only went up to tell 'Nara the food was ready."

"They'll be a little while," River said knowingly.

"What?" Mal stared at her, then turned his gaze on Sam. "Is Inara trying to seduce my wife?"

Jayne's ears perked up and he leered a grin, but subsided after someone's delicate foot connected with his shin.

"I have no idea," Sam admitted, both hands up.

"I do. And no, she isn't," River explained. "But she needs to talk."

Mal was perplexed. "'Nara?"

River shook her head. "Freya."

* * *

"Wow, that is good." Freya looked into the small cup as Inara refilled it, feeling instant warmth spread through her from her belly outward.

"Told you." Inara smiled. She lifted her own. "Cheers."

"No, you said just the one."

"Then just the one more." Inara leaned forward. "And a toast. To everyone surviving."

Freya stared at her, then nodded. "To surviving."

They clicked cups.

* * *

"So we've been looking at different cruises," Phoebe was saying, cutting up a slice of meat for Jesse into bite-sized pieces. "And there's one that goes to Osiris, Londinium, then on to Sihnon for the festival, then to Ariel and Albion –"

"Yeah, well, get the information to me and we can take a look," Mal said, half his attention on her and half on the women up in the house.

"It's the SS Gideon," Phoebe went on, as if he hadn't spoken. "They have all sorts of other activities on board and …" She really could talk for Lazarus if left unchecked, but this time nobody stopped her. They were all too busy tucking into Mrs Boden's fine food, letting her idle chatter flow easily over them.

Only River wasn't eating, instead watching Mal. Finally she moved next to him, leaning on his leg. "It's necessary," she murmured, loud enough for only him to hear.

"Why, albatross?" he asked. "Is it something I need to be worried about?"

"No. Not really."

He looked at her sharply. "Why ain't she talking to me, then?"

"Because she needs a woman's ear. And you're the problem."

"Me?"

* * *

"Why are you angry at Mal?"

"I'm not!"

Inara filled the cups again and asked, "Are you sure?"

Freya glared at her, then sagged back into the armchair. "Oh, 'Nara. I'm not angry at him. Not really."

"You're giving a pretty good impression of it."

"Well, actually, you know, maybe I should be. Do you know what he did today? He got up. He got up out of bed, walked to the window so he could watch the kids. He could have fallen, tripped … hell, he could have fainted. And then what would have happened? I wasn't there, no-one was. He was alone. He could have ripped those damn stitches out of his chest and I wouldn't have been able to stop it." She swallowed the cup of rice wine, not even feeling the smooth alcohol slide down her throat. "I couldn't stop it, Inara. I couldn't stop him. Niska. I couldn't stop him from doing that, from using that … that stuff on him."

"No-one blames you, Frey," Inara assured her.

"I blame me! I didn't see what it did. I didn't make Mal go to see Simon. I did nothing." Her head dropped.

"Freya –"

"I should have been able to … I'm a Reader, Inara! What good's that if I can't stop …but I didn't see. I could have lost him. I could have lost both of them." She looked up, her eyes brimming. "Mal and … and Ethan."

* * *

"I don't understand, _xaio nu_." Mal leaned forward, the stitches in his chest tugging right above his heart.

"She's afraid." River wasn't looking at him, her eyes on Jayne as he fed Caleb on his knee.

"Of what?" Trouble was, he had a pretty good idea.

River nodded slowly.

* * *

"That EMP pulse … I was so scared it had damaged Ethan's pacemaker. Then I felt him, in my mind, and I knew he was all right, at least for that moment. But Mal was …" She stopped and gulped the remaining wine in the small cup, seeing Simon in her mind's eye, his hand deep in Mal's chest. "I would have killed Boone."

"You didn't."

"Only because someone else got to him first."

"It still means you don't have his blood on your hands."

"It's just … it's just …" Freya shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness.

"I know."

It was as if Inara hadn't spoken. "It's just I … I nearly lost him. I nearly lost him, Inara." Tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Frey, he's downstairs."

"I mean, a bullet I could've stepped in front of. But this …"

"And if you had taken a bullet for him? How do you think he'd feel?" Inara poured another helping each of her truly excellent rice wine, her hand only slightly unsteady.

"At least he wouldn't have had to have his chest opened!"

"No, true. But I imagine it would feel like he had. If you got hurt instead of him."

"But I didn't. And now he's down there acting like a big kid!"

Inara's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair. "What?"

"He wanted to go outside to play!" Freya used the cup for emphasis, then realised she'd splashed some liquid onto her hand, and leaned forward to lick it up, reminding Inara of Maoli in the way her tongue lapped at the wine on her skin.

"Then he's feeling better."

"He might have fallen!" she repeated, going back to her original objection.

"And Simon would have patched him up again."

Freya glared at her friend. "That's not the point."

"So what is?"

"He shouldn't … he cheated death, Inara. He should be being more … more …" She reached for the word. "Sober," she finished finally. "He should be more sober."

"You mean, more adult about it."

"Yes!" Freya waved the cup again. "That's it exactly!"

Inara shook her head. It was just like Sam had said. "Frey, he's glad to be alive. He's ecstatic that the _hwoon dahn_ didn't manage to kill him even by proxy, that he's going to live to see Ethan grow to be a man, Jesse to a beautiful young woman, you into … whatever it is you're going to grow into." She sipped from her own cup. "Be happy for him."

"I am!" But Freya's face had fallen. "Is that what it is? Aren't I happy for him? Don't I want him to be …" She stared, then let the cup tumble from her hands and covered her face.

Inara moved quickly and gathered her into her arms, letting her cry it out, something she suspected she hadn't done properly since Mal collapsed. What she'd said about being able to step in front of a bullet was right. Any one of the crew would have done the same, but none of them were desperately in love with the captain.

* * *

"So she thinks … what? That I should be sitting around worrying 'bout something that didn't happen?"

"No. She's done enough of that for both of you."

"Then what?"

"Just be there for her. Understand."

"River, I try. God knows, I love her, and even if I don't achieve it often, I do try."

"Then that's enough." She turned to look up at him, a wide smile lighting her face.

* * *

Freya wiped her cheeks with the lace-edged handkerchief Inara had found in her dressing table drawer, then sniffed. "Sorry," she said, somewhat ashamed of herself.

"Why?" Inara, still standing, put her head onto one side, looking down at her.

"Making a fuss." Freya hiccupped half a laugh and pointed to the damp patch on the carpet next to her cup. "Making a mess."

"I don't care about that. I care about you." Taking a fresh cup from the tray, she poured another measure of rice wine. "Here."

"Not sure I should."

"I think you need it." Handing it over, she retreated to the bed and sat down, picking her own up. "To us, Frey."

"Okay. To us."

They drank, the smooth wine taking the last taste of tears from both of them. As she finished her drink, Freya laid her head back on the armchair and stared up into the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" Inara asked.

"Mal."

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

Freya giggled, a sound that hardly ever came from her, and probably wouldn't have now if she wasn't well on the way to being drunk. "Honestly?"

"No. Don't bother answering."

"I was just … I've been stupid, haven't I?"

"No. Not stupid. Normal."

"Me? Normal?"

"Okay, I admit those two words don't usually go together, but … Frey, you love Mal. He nearly died. I think how you've been feeling is … well, normal." She leaned forward, rolling her empty cup between her hands. "But he's going to be fine."

"I know." Freya looked over, and wondered why there seemed to be two women sitting on the bed. "But he keeps doing this. Getting hurt."

"Then you don't have a choice. You're going to have to leave him."

Freya stared at her, then burst into full-bellied laughter. Inara grinned.

* * *

"Don't you think someone should go and see if they're okay?" Hank asked, easing the waistband on his somewhat tight pants and looking up at the top windows of the house. Mr Boden had lit the lamps outside the front door, and above them the stars were starting to show in the darkening sky.

"I'm sure they're fine," Kaylee said, leaning against Simon and wondering if it was possible to die from overeating.

"And Mrs Boden's sure to have put something aside for them," Zoe added.

"Mama's singing," Ethan said indistinctly around a mouthful of cake.

"Singing?" his father asked, one eyebrow raising. "Singing what?"

* * *

"What are you singing?" Inara asked, looking at the empty bottle and wondering how they'd managed to get through its entire contents.

"What?"

"Singing. You were singing."

"Don't think so."

"Oh yes you were."

Freya narrowed her eyes, thinking back. "I don't remember …"

"Something in Russian, I think."

"Oh." She looked beyond her friend, to the painting on the wall above the fireplace. "Oh, yes. I think I was." She pointed, her hand wavering erratically. "That just … it reminded me of my grandmother, on my father's side."

Inara peered at the picture, something that seemed to be quite difficult as her focus was somewhat erratic, but she nodded. It was one of her favourites, of a young woman sitting on a grassy bank surrounded by flowering trees. She liked it because it made her think of when she was young, and a particular place near her home. "Did she look like that?"

"I think so. When she was a girl."

"And the song?"

"It's called _Katyusha_." Freya smiled. "That was her name. Everyone called her Katya, but that was her proper name."

"What's it about?"

"A young woman, thinking about the man she loves, who's off in a far place defending his home."

"Sing it for me."

Freya shook her head several times, then wondered why the room kept moving even when she stopped. "No. I can't sing."

"Of course you can. You were just doing it."

"I can't."

"Of course you can." Inara stood up, unsteady on her feet. "And I've got another bottle of wine that says you will." She went to the small cabinet in the corner, bending down to open the small door.

"You know, I think we've had enough."

Inara looked round, wondering if she was going to be able to stand up again. "Not until you sing for me."

"It's just a silly folk song."

Grasping the bottle by the neck, she levered herself straight. "Please?"

Freya sighed. "All right. But don't say I didn't warn you." She sat up a little, coughed to clear her throat, then began to sing, her voice surprisingly on key and warm. "_Rastsvetali yabloni i grushi, poplyli tumani nad rekoi, vykhadyila na byereg Katyusha, na vysoki byereg, na krutoi._"

* * *

Outside in the garden, everyone sat and listened.

"That Frey?" Jayne asked.

River nodded, translating loosely, "_Apple trees and pears trees were in flower, and the mist was rising across the river when Katyusha went down to the steep, high banks_."

"You understand her?" Simon looked at his sister.

She touched her temple with her finger, and went on, "_While she walked she sang a song about a grey eagle of the steppe, the man she loved, whose letters she held in her hand_."

Each couple moved closer to their partner, while the children clustered together, listening to the two Readers. Mal half-closed his eyes, feeling his wife clearly in his mind as she sang.

* * *

"…_Otsvetali yabloni i grushi, uplyli tumani nad rekoi, ukhadyila z byerega Katyusha, unasyila pyesen'ku damoi._" Freya finished, and there was silence in the room for a long moment.

"That was beautiful," Inara breathed.

Freya swallowed, determined not to cry again. "When my grandmother taught it to me, she told me it was special to her, not only because it was the first song her own nana taught her, but because she once had a 'grey eagle' all of her own, a young man who wrote her love letters and left them under her pillow." She smiled. "I never did ask how he got into her room to leave them. Maybe I should have."

"Did she get to be with him?" Inara asked.

"No. Her father, my great-grandfather, didn't approve, and banished him from the estate. She was forbidden from seeing him again, and they married her off to a wealthy man on Londinium."

"Your grandfather."

"Mmn. I mean, she grew to love him eventually, but never the same as she felt for her 'grey eagle'."

"So she became Katya Rostov," Inara said.

"Oh, no," Freya corrected, waving her finger. "She was already that."

Inara's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

"In my family, it's the family name that's important. The continuation of the line. It doesn't matter who marries in, man or woman, they have to become Rostovs."

Inara gawped. "So Mal is really Malcolm Rostov?"

"Absolutely." Freya nodded firmly. "But if I ever insist on that particular tradition at least he won't have to change the monogram on his underwear."

"Excuse me?" Inara peered at her. "Monogrammed underwear? He hasn't, not really. Has he?"

"I never did show you what I got him for his birthday, did I?"

Inara dissolved into laughter. "Oh, I wish you had!"

Freya glowed with mischief. "Doesn't Sam have his name on his underwear? Just in case when he wakes up in the middle of the night he forgets who he is?"

"No! Sam never forgets." Inara pulled herself together. "So, did your grandmother teach you any other songs?"

"Lots. Happy ones, sad ones …" Freya smiled. "She used to sing them with such gusto and a tear in her eye that my father would look embarrassed and hope the neighbours couldn't hear."

"She sounds like quite a woman."

"She was." The smile turned wistful. "I miss her a lot."

Inara looked at her friend, the alcoholic switchback threatening to head downhill. "Teach me something," she said, pulling the cork from the fresh bottle and inhaling the perfume that whispered out. She managed to pour the clear liquid mostly into the cup in Freya's hand, only spilling a little onto the carpet.

"What, in Russian?"

"Yes."

Freya chugged back the wine. "What do you want to learn?"

Inara grinned.

* * *

The voices had changed, becoming less ladylike and more raucous.

Zoe listened for a moment, then looked at River. "Do we want to know what they're singing?"

The young psychic shook her head, a delicate shade of pink just tracing her cheekbones. "No."

Mal couldn't help smiling. "Just be glad Frey ain't singing any of the ones she learned from when she crewed on that Lancaster. She taught us some during the war. Even I hadn't heard of a few of 'em."

"Me neither, sir," Zoe agreed. "And growing up on a freighter …"

"Maybe we should go join in," Jayne suggested. "I know a few myself'd turn your hair grey."

"Thanks, but I don't need your help," Mal said.

Bethie concentrated, then made a face filled with disgust as she picked up for herself what the latest ditty was about. "Yuck," she said, and everyone laughed.

Simon stood up. "I think perhaps I'd better get something for them both from Serenity's infirmary," he said. "Otherwise they'll be fit for nothing tomorrow."

"I kinda think that's gonna be their own fault," Mal pointed out.

"Still, better safe than sorry." Simon stretched a little. "But we should be getting you back inside before then. It's getting somewhat chilly out here."

"I'm fine, doc."

"Exactly. I'm still the doctor, and you're still my patient." He looked at the other men. "If you wouldn't mind assisting."

Hank and Jayne got up, and the pilot grinned. "What was it they used to use, back in the day, to carry folks around?"

"Sedan chair," River supplied, her eyes half closed, still listening to the songs drifting down.

"That's it." Hank chuckled. "Got your very own sedan chair here."

"It's undignified," Mal said.

"Sure. But you should enjoy it while you can. Just pretend like you're royalty." Hank looked at Jayne. "Ready?"

"Ready," the big man said, nodding, and between them they lifted Mal's chair, carrying him steadily towards the house, Simon at the back giving extra support and a steadying hand.

As they reached the front door a particularly dirty laugh filtered through the open window, and none of them were quite sure which woman it came from.

"Better make it a strong dose, Simon," Mal said over his shoulder, smiling nevertheless. "I think they're gonna need it."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam waited as long as he could, until everyone else had turned in, before he headed up towards his and Inara's bedroom, stopping outside. He was under no illusion that he'd disturb his lover entangled naked with the Captain's wife, but what else he might find gave him pause. He raised his hand and knocked, once, twice, three times.

"Go away!"

Sam smiled and opened the door.

Freya was sitting in the armchair, cuddling what looked like a bottle of rice wine. Her eyes were closed, as if she was asleep. Inara, on the other hand, was on the bed, her head on the pillow, her knees drawn up towards her chest. She was humming something.

Sam crossed to the bed and sat down. "Hey," he said softly, stroking her hair back from her forehead.

"Did I say come in?" she asked, somewhat belligerently.

"No. But I do sleep here."

She peered at him out of one eye. "Okay. Point taken." She lifted her head enough to look at Freya. "I think I broke her."

"Is she unconscious?"

"Not sure." Inara smiled up at him. "I didn't drink nearly as much as she did."

"Why did you drink at all? Why didn't you just ask her what was wrong?"

"Because she wouldn't have told me." Inara yawned, not even bothering to cover her mouth. "Her walls … her defences are so strong, she'd never had admitted she was angry at Mal for nearly dying."

"And did she?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good. It should help."

"I think so."

"She also apparently taught you some new songs."

Inara chuckled. "You know, one of them was about –"

Sam laid a finger on her lips. "I don't think I want to know." He slipped his hand into his pocket and came out with two tablets in his palm. "Here. You'd better take these."

"Some of Simon's wonder pills?"

"Mmn. He said for you to take them before you go to sleep, and drink as much water as possible."

"How did he know we'd been …" She pointed to an empty bottle on the table.

"We heard, my sweet."

Her eyebrows lifted. "All of it?"

"Well, the singing, anyway."

"Oh." She struggled to sit up, then realised she was leaning on her sleeves. "Oops," she said.

He shook his head at her, then filled a glass from the carafe. "Here."

She took the glass in both hands, having to hold it carefully to keep it steady. She took a sip, then another, finishing it before she knew. She sighed, feeling a little of the fuzziness clear.

Sam filled the glass again, smiling at her wrinkling her nose at him. "Open," he commanded, and when she did he popped the two pills onto her tongue. She swallowed quickly, washing them down with more of the water before making a face.

"Do they have to taste that bad?" she asked.

"Simon probably chose that particular type on purpose."

"And I thought we were friends." She tried to put the glass on the bedside table, but almost missed, Sam having to grab it at the last moment to prevent an accident. "Sorry."

"You'd better lie down." He eased her back, watching an odd look cross her face. "Are you going to be sick?" he asked gently.

"Possibly."

"Then I will hold your hair out of the way."

She smiled. "You love me that much."

"More."

"That's nice." Her eyes began to close. "That's very nice."

He smiled then stood up, pulling the top cover across her as she snuggled down into the pillow. He turned to wake Freya, but saw he didn't have to. She was smiling at him from the armchair.

"Everyone gone to bed?" she asked, keeping her voice low, hardly slurring her words at all.

"Yes. And so should you. Come on, I'll give you a hand."

"I can do it myself, thank you very much." She pushed herself to her feet, swaying a little.

"I still think I should help you down the stairs. Just in case you fall."

"You, sir, are a gentleman."

"And you're on the wrong side of drunk."

"But I'll be sober in the morning, and you'll still be a gentleman." She laughed and handed him the bottle. "Thank Inara for the booze, will you?"

"No problem."

It didn't take long to get her to the bottom of the stairs, where she insisted she was capable of getting ready for bed all by herself. "I've been doing it for some time now, you know," she said, drawing herself up.

"Fine." Sam laughed. "Then I'll see you in the morning."

Freya grinned and almost fell through into the back drawing room.

Mal was lying in bed, propped up slightly on pillows to ease the healing incision in his chest. "What time do you call this, then?" he asked, putting down the book he was reading, one of Hank's trashy novels, this one with a buxom blonde on the front being menaced by an alien in a space suit.

"Bedtime." Closing the door carefully behind her, Freya walked somewhat unsteadily towards him, stopping to lean on the back of one of the chairs to try and take her boots off. Somehow, she just couldn't seem to manage it.

"I'm sorry," Mal said, watching her struggle.

"No problem. I can do this." She grinned at him, then almost fell, grabbing at the last moment at the chair to save herself. "I know you can't help," she added, pushing herself straight.

"No. I don't mean that. I mean for nearly breaking my promise."

She sat down heavily in the chair, grabbing at her foot and missing. "Promise?"

"To not leave you."

Freya stopped, and lifted her head slowly. "What?"

"I promised I'd never leave you. And I nearly did. I'm sorry."

She stared at him, taking in his mussed hair, the sheets pulled up to his waist, the dressing still covering the stitches starkly white against his skin. But all she saw was his blue eyes, very gentle now, telling her so much more than words ever could. "Mal …" She had to swallow hard.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking waiting for you. And maybe I've got an idea of what you were going through. Thinking I wasn't … that you were going to be left alone." He wanted to get out of the bed, cross to her, take her in his arms and comfort her. "Felt the same way, Frey, when it's been you lyin' in the infirmary."

"It … hurts," she admitted.

"Yeah. It does." He shook his head. "But I know a little of what you felt."

"Powerless."

"Yeah, that too. And then you see me making jokes, like it never happened."

She looked ashamed. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He held up the blanket. "You comin' to bed or not?"

She finally managed to kick her boots off, and immediately slipped under the covers, next to her husband, feeling his warmth against her.

"I'm still dressed," she said unnecessarily.

"And you smell a bit like a distillery."

"I do not!"

"Do too." He took a deep sniff. "Not saying I don't like it, though. Not for a change."

"Maybe I should start dabbing it behind my ears," she suggested, grinning.

"What, and have all the fellers followin' you? Don't you dare."

She giggled then snuggled down, his arm coming round her quite naturally. "Anyway, I'm the one should be saying sorry," she murmured, her hand fluttering above his chest.

"Why?"

"I've been … Mal, I've been angry at you, and it's not your fault."

"Not yours either, _xin gan_."

"Haven't we had this conversation before?" she asked, lifting her head to peer at him.

"Prob'ly. And I don't doubt we will again, seeing as the life we lead sometimes."

"You're not planning on taking up arms against the New Browncoats again any time soon, are you?"

"Nope. Oddly enough, I wasn't before. Just kinda snuck up on me."

"Are you going to get mad at me?" she asked, looking very like her daughter.

"Might. Seems to me I figure maybe I've got cause."

"I was upset."

"You were a bit crazy."

"I didn't want you to die."

"Me neither. But I ain't gonna change my stripes just because I nearly did. Frey, I'm just glad I can still hold you like this, that I ain't six feet under growing cold in my coffin."

"I would have kept my promise," she whispered. "If you had."

"Which one?" he asked, but knew before she spoke.

"Not to … to leave the children." She couldn't say it, not the words.

"I'm glad. Not for you, but for them. And for me. Can't think of you doing anything that might … can't think of that, Frey." He leaned down far enough to kiss her, just a brush of his lips across hers, but he couldn't help wincing.

"No," she said firmly, pushing herself up onto her elbow. "None of that."

"You mean I can't kiss my wife?"

"No. Not yet."

"Damn."

"Not 'til you've got those stitches out."

"Then call Simon right now."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, then realised he was joking. "Gorramit, I can't even hit you!" she said in frustration.

He chuckled. "Frey, I ain't gonna do anything to jeopardise our future together. 'Cause we got one, and it's gonna be a long and eventful one, if the past is anything to go by. I can't say we're gonna get through it without a scar or two more, but I'll do my best. Like you will. But you've gotta let me blow off a little steam sometimes, even if it's just telling the girls stories I maybe shouldn't."

"You really shouldn't have told them the one about Wash and the girl who turned out to be a man. I don't think Zoe knew that one."

"Well, permaybehaps that's the case. But he didn't get very far, and I'm sure she'd've forgiven him if she'd known."

"Like you forgive me?"

"Only if you do the same."

She smiled. "Okay."

"Good." He reached out and picked up two small white pills from the table next to him. "Now take these like a good girl."

"Something of a misnomer there," she muttered, looking at them in the palm of his hand. "What are they?"

"Stop the hangover in the morning."

"I don't get hangovers."

"No?" His mind wandered back to the very few times he'd seen her really drunk. "Must've been me, then."

"Must have been."

He nudged her with his elbow. "Then for my sake, okay?"

"Well …" She picked them up, rolling them between her fingertips. "Okay." Tossing them into her mouth and nearly falling backwards out of bed, she swallowed, grimacing. "Yuck."

"Serves you right for drinking."

She looked down her nose at him. "You drink. Me and Zoe've had to come and get you and Hank more than once. And Jayne. Poured him into a shuttle on the odd occasion. Simon too, come to think of it."

"That's not the same."

"Why not?"

"We're men."

"So that makes it okay."

"Absolutely."

"Right. Next U-day, don't go thinking any one of us girls are going to come and get you," she threatened. "We'll be out having a fight of our own."

"I don't doubt it. Don't doubt it at all." He reached up and pulled her down to him, her head sitting perfectly against his shoulder. "So what was that song you were singing? You and Inara."

She grinned, her eyes beginning to close. "Something my grandma taught me. Something she shouldn't have. And my father got really cross about, because Alex and me kept walking round the house singing it."

"Sing it for me."

"Sleepy." She yawned, slipping her arm around his waist, well away from the site of his operation.

"Just once. Then you can doze right off."

"No."

"Please?"

She muttered something against his chest that sounded a lot like Chinese. "I don't remember it."

"Sure you do."

"Mal, I'm trying to get some shut eye."

"Frey …"

She sighed heavily, her breath making his skin tremble, but she rolled slightly onto her back. "Fine. Okay. No problem." She started to hum, then paused. "Join in whenever you're ready."

"I don't know the words."

"Oh, you will. It's pretty monotonous. And obscene."

He chuckled. "Just how I like it."

* * *

In her bedroom Bethie looked at her mother as she tucked her in, the tatty green rabbit known as Jayne sitting at the end of the bed. "Momma, Ethan's pacemaker … does it have shielding?"

Kaylee looked up, surprised. "Not sure. Why'd you ask?"

"Just wondering. It didn't get damaged by the EMP."

"No, no, it didn't." Kaylee folded one of Bethie's small t-shirts absently. "Maybe it does."

The little girl smiled, cuddling her Ethan doll and snuggling down into the soft warmth. "G'night," she said.

"Mmn?" Kaylee pulled herself back to the moment, and away from the possibility of looking up pacemakers on the Cortex and finding out if they had something she might be able to adapt for Serenity's engine. "Oh, yeah. G'night, Bethie." She leaned forward as far as her belly would allow and kissed her daughter on the cheek. Standing up she went to the door, turning the light off so there was only the glow of starlight through the half-open curtains. "Sweet dreams."

"You too." Bethie closed her eyes, but before the door could shut she added, "And Momma?"

"Yes, honey?"

An expression of disgust crossed her features. "Can you tell Uncle Mal and Auntie Frey to stop singing that song? It's rude."

Kaylee looked perplexed, but said, "Course I will, but I'm sure they'll stop soon. G'night."

"Night."

Out in the corridor, after the door had clicked shut, Kaylee listened carefully. Sure enough, just on the edge of her perception, coming up from downstairs, she could hear voices, one man and one woman, singing in a language she didn't understand. She grinned. _Looks like things are back to normal_, she thought to herself, and went to tell Simon the good news.


End file.
